


throwing a line out to sea

by dos_mierdas



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Culture, Alien Keith (Voltron), Because I wanted to, Biphobia, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Cuban Lance (Voltron), Falling In Love, Family Reunions, Fictional Religion & Theology, Fluff, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Happy Ending, Homophobia, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lance (Voltron) Speaks Spanish, Light Angst, M/M, Mentioned Hunk (Voltron), Mentioned Pidge | Katie Holt, Minor Original Character(s), Non-Consensual Groping, Outer Space, POV Third Person, Panic Attacks, Prince Keith (Voltron), Queen Krolia, Quickly, Slightly - Freeform, a little bit, a tiny bit also, and accents, because I say so, how many times can I write star, i love it anyways, i think, its rushed, keith doesn't understand gendered clothes, keith has long hair because I need him to, lance has a thing for tourists, lance is a psychic kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-06-29 06:25:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 37,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15723801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dos_mierdas/pseuds/dos_mierdas
Summary: Keith tried pulling his hand out of the strong grip. “I said I’m not done, Shiro! I know the drill. I can do it with my eyes closed. Just let me go back to-” And then his knight turned around, making the words stop and die on his tongue. Normally Shiro would laugh and try to play-carry him when there were drills, chasing him around the throne room as they laughed, calling out how this was ‘his duty’. But now, Shiro’s eyes were dark, mouth set in a straight, hard line.Something was wrong.“It’s not a drill”Oh.________________________Or Keith is an Alien Prince whose ship crashes on Earth escaping from an attack on his castle and Lance is definitely crazy because he's dreamed about this before. Or is he?Third person and switching perspectives. So first Keith then Lance then Keith etc.This story is finished, so don't worry if you liked it, it's literally impossible for me to discontinue.





	1. A Series Of Unfortunate Events

**Author's Note:**

> This was 100% inspired by Princess Protection Program and I feel no shame. Also, who doesn't love princess Keith? 
> 
> This is also completely self-indulgent. 
> 
> This fic is already finished. I'll be posting a chapter every few days, so if you like it don't worry, it's literally impossible to discontinue.
> 
> Title is from 'She Had The World' by Panic! at the Disco.

Keith would rather lose his hearing forever than have to listen to the symphony of high-pitched screeches that made up the alarms in the castle. Alarms which were currently blaring around him, making him lose track of his practice.

Wherever was the night? It was still too fucking away, is where it was.

A quick view up turned his eyelids red, meaning the sun hadn’t even fulfilled its first round, that Gin’s night was still at least two repeats away. Keith frowned, trying to get back on track, but the ringing and its strange timing were distracting him too much. Normally drills were scheduled when at least half of the castle was awake, or at least when Keith was awake, and they were supposed to go off very early in the morning or very late at night to catch some people off guard. But they’d always only have one per rotation.

The alarm had sounded but a cycle ago.

Weirder than that: Keith was _always_ to be warned, under the queen’s command, when the drill was taking place. It was a stupid rule, but they’d never failed to follow it. Last time they’d tried blaring the alarm without warning, he’d been but a cub and had wailed so loud his mother had shot the horns and the light bulbs in his room to pieces, causing a mild fire which he’d accidentally burned his hand on. Accidentally not because it’d been close to him, but because, even while distressed, Keith had been so fascinated by the flames he’d tried to touch them. Whenever a candle was lit, he still wondered about what texture the heat would have. He wasn’t allowed near fire anymore.

It was a wonderful series of unfortunate events. Keith had a feeling whatever was happening would end up being something like that.

Opening one eye, he glared at the offensive red lights. Was he considered old enough not to panic already? Or had they malfunctioned? Probably the latter. Krolia was too overprotective of him and he didn’t think she’d trust him to control himself, even after so long without an accident. Well, that was probably because Shiro was appointed to follow him around all day.

 _I don’t need an ‘appointed knight’,_ he’d complained. But after an incident where Keith had ended up in a fistfight with a boy two years older than him, and considering his stunted growth rate, his mother had hired Shiro to follow him around all day.

No _you don’t,_ she’d smiled. It’s to protect them from you.

It made him laugh to this day how she’d thought Keith would believe-

Shiro was running towards him.

“Can I not practice in peace?” he complained, only to be completely ignored. Krolia had been determined about making him practice the coronation ceremony over and over again every single day, having him move his lips over the sacred words and repeating them in his mind so much they were seared into his brain. The worst part was it took him at least an entire repeat and a little more each time, and he was to be fully clothed for the occasion because ‘you can’t even think of them if you’re not prepared for their meaning’.

Prepared apparently meant dressing up for an absent audience, as not even Shiro sat through his practice, only eventually fetched him for dinner. Even if he liked being drenched in gold, it was way too cold to be without thick robes or at least gloves. And here his mother had him at least twice a day, kneeling on the freezing floor in almost transparent red silks, repeating the words for the millionth something time. Why couldn’t he just-

Shiro bodily pulled him up.

Okay, this was ridiculous. Was Keith expected to fight for his practice time now?

“Shiro, I’m not done-“

“Just run”

Keith tried pulling his hand out of the strong grip. “I said I’m not done, Shiro! I know the drill. I can do it with my eyes closed. Just let me go back to-” And then his knight turned around, making the words stop and die on his tongue. Normally Shiro would laugh and try to play-carry him when there were drills, chasing him around the throne room as they laughed calling out how this was ‘his duty’. But now, Shiro’s eyes were dark, mouth set in a straight, hard line.

Something was wrong.

“It’s not a drill”

 _Oh_.

They ran down the halls. Red still turning on and off and every door shutting closed behind them as they crossed through the frames. His feet were starting to hurt, the high shoes his mother gifted him forcing his weight on his toes, and every bangle and necklace adding to the burden, pulling him down onto them. These clothes weren’t meant for running around, they were only meant for him to stand and sit and walk a few paces on. But Shiro dragged him through the escape route anyway, not saying a word but tightening his grip enough to scare Keith. His knight never touched him unless absolutely necessary or if Keith chose to initiate it. It was something they’d agreed on the first time he’d tried carrying the prince when he’d sprained his ankle training.

 _I’m not a princess Shiro,_ he’d complained, his voice high and whiny with early age, _I can walk by myself._ Of course, the knight had insisted, trying to carry him by his lower back and legs. But as soon as the metallic hand rested on his skin, Keith had started screaming so loudly his mother ran out from a meeting thinking he was being murdered.

From that moment, his aversion to touch didn’t go unnoticed. Whenever they went out, the prince had always clung to Krolia’s side or hid behind Shiro’s back, but now they’d try and get him to walk by himself or beside them. The worried eyes of his mother rested heavier on his back each day until he started shying away from even her. So aside from hiring his strength, Krolia ended up appointing Shiro’s unbearably careful nature to try and figure out why Keith was so determined to keep his distance from anyone and everyone. After months of nudging his carefully built up walls, the knight had figured it out. They had been training when Shiro had pulled his legs from under him, pinning him down to the floor. The prince had tried not to panic, but almost started screaming before he was let up. He interpreted Shiro’s worry as pity, and almost refused the helping hand offered.

 _You could’ve shaken me off,_ Shiro pointed out, _but you panicked. You can’t let your feelings get in the way of saving yourself._

Keith shook his head. _You’re all so big,_ he’d huffed annoyed, but still wouldn’t meet his eyes. _I fear you’ll crush me if I’m not careful, or get manhandled around. Why must I be so fucking small?_

So they trained some more. And though he learned how never to be overpowered, it was left clear to everyone he was not to be touched. He appreciated it for a while, but as he grew stronger, he began to despise the way people wouldn’t go near him. When he walked by the village and built up the courage to try and make friends, people would just shrink away from him, not because they were scared or respected him, but in fear of breaking him. He stopped going out unless absolutely necessary, and eventually not at all.

The prince had become like a myth to them, and he had grown to be comfortable with the isolation. He wouldn’t have to feel like a scared little cub or an infectious disease if he stayed in the castle. Never again.

But that was exactly what Keith felt like as he was pulled down to the ships. The alarms started getting to him, mouth going dry and shoulders tensing with the continuous loud noise. It reminded him of the times he’d had to stand by Krolia on big ceremonies. There were a thousand invisible eyes on him, whispering behind their hands, behind his back as he kneeled by the altar. About how weird his skin had gotten. About how small he was. About who would ever marry-

“Keith,” Shiro pulled him back from his thoughts, but right now he’d really rather face sad memories than the reality of their situation. The pod was right in front of them, humming to life slowly as Shiro pressed some buttons on a console next to it. It was an old thing. They hadn’t needed to fix them at all since Krolia came back from-

No. That was just a fairytale. A story his mother told him when he was small. About his ‘hero’ of a father and how he’d saved her when the ship had crashed on his planet. He had probably been just some heartless man, running as soon as he got too involved, not realizing it was the future queen he’d left with cub. Keith knew that. He’d told himself so many times how different he was because of him, how that had quiznacked up his life. The void he left had him feeling so unloved and angry, even when surrounded by his people, by his own family.

The prince was so scared he was starting to believe his mother’s bedtime stories.

“-the pod,” Shiro was pointing at the entrance, trying to pull him in.

“What?” Keith knew what he was supposed to do, but he really didn’t want to. This had to be a joke, or a drill gone too far. Had his mother put Shiro up to this? Where was she? Would he be able to say-

“Get in the pod Keith,” Shiro’s voice was high and panicked, but still serious or… he didn’t want to think about Shiro being scared of anything, but that was exactly what he was. Something told Keith his knight was going to throw him in the pod and tie him to it if he had to.

“Get in and I’ll be right back. I need to get more-“ but a distant explosion cut him off.

“Shiro,” he tried begging with his eyes, but the knight just pulled their foreheads together.

“Keith, breathe,” he tried but his lungs wouldn’t cooperate, his body frozen still.

“You can’t go. You can’t leave me here. What if-“

“Get in the pod, Keith,” he ordered, but his voice was soft. “You can fly it. Just go the farthest it will take you”

“No Shiro!” he knew he was being childish but he was so scared. He couldn’t just go and leave his mother, not like his dad had.

“You can outfly anything, Keith. You don’t need me to save you. You can save yourself”

“But I-“ but then he was being pushed in, landing hard on the floor and feeling something break apart from his neck, his skin burning where it broke off.

“Just go,” there were foreign voices coming from the halls, but Shiro was still looking at him, the silver chain he always wore clutched tightly in his fist. “You can follow the stars back”

The doors started closing. On pure instinct, Keith stood up, reaching towards the gap to try and pull Shiro in with him. But the doors were faster than his desperate fingers and he ended up banging his fists against the tiny window. The prince didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to disappear, not like his father did. He wanted to stay with Shiro, wanted to stay with his mom.

As the pod hummed to life he saw the knight turn his back on him, but not before Keith could read his lips.

 _I’m sorry,_ he’d said, sword held high and proud while the chain dangled by his grip.

“No…,” he whispered to no one as the guards came in. “No. Please no…,” but Shiro was too busy swinging his sword to see his tears fall.

The falling of the pod forced him to turn back. He gripped the controls and tried to ignore the emptiness in his chest. He could outfly anyone. He would save himself. But where should he go? There was no time to think, no time to plan. How much fuel was left? How long would it-

A memory struck him then.

 _Mom,_ he’d asked, _where do I go if I get lost? If I end up alone?_

 _You can never be lost,_ Keith, she’d whispered back. _Not as long as the stars are there to keep you safe and guide you back._

But there were no stars in the sky this time. Only the blur of gunfire outside as he flew the pod away from his home. He would think about a way to go back later.

For now, he just focused on trying to stay alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time System:
> 
> Second - Ticks  
> Minute - Portions of Repeat (half a repeat, quarter repeat, etc)  
> Hour - Repeats  
> Day - Round  
> Week - Cycle  
> Month - Seasons  
> Year - Rotation (4 Seasons)
> 
> This story is finished, will be updating every day so subscribe if you want!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment if you liked or see any typos!


	2. Red Star Blue Star

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Isabella sounds a lot like Arabella. Anyone else listen to that song and think of Keith? 
> 
> "Arabella's got a seventies head  
> But she's a modern lover  
> It's an exploration, she's made of outer space  
> And her lips are like the galaxy's edge  
> And her kiss the colour of a constellation falling into place". - Arctic Monkeys
> 
> Yeah, definitely about Keith.

“What do you mean?”  
  
“It means exactly what I said,” Isabella flipped her dark hair and looked him up and down. “You’re cute. But Miguel wants to get back together. So.”  
  
_So?_ That’s all Lance got? _So?_  
  
“What?” so coherent, isn’t he? But who could blame him? After months of crushing on the same girl and going from being a boy in the background of her Instagram photos to actually starring in them, this was giving him whiplash. And he’d been so excited for their date tonight.  
  
“But I-“  
  
“We’re done Lance. I just… ” for a second she looked uncomfortable, crossing her arms and looking down at the ground, as if the look in his face was too much to bear. Even when she was being so mean, Lance wanted to wipe that look off her face, do something stupid to make her laugh or at least smile again. “You really cheered me up when we broke up, you know?”  
  
No. Lance didn’t know. He thought what they had was real. And he was just…  
  
“But I’ve realized you are more like, friend than boyfriend material?” Lance couldn’t believe his deepest insecurities were being brought to life by his girlfriend’s... ex-girlfriend’s lips. Isabella. The girl he’d loved making laugh, who kissed him like he was the only one in the room in the middle of the street like they were the only ones there. She’d made him feel so special, and for what? He’d just been some... some fucking band-aid?    
  
“And I think you’re...,” but she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “The other day when we fell asleep on the couch… Lance, you were saying some- some boy’s name”  
  
_What?_  
  
Isabella must have seen the confusion on his face.

  
“I don’t know Lance!” she threw her hands up, perfectly manicured nails looking like claws. “You were mumbling weird things okay? Something about- about the sea? And a red star? You were shaking so bad. And you kept repeating some boy’s name, I just-“  
  
Oh. That dream. But that was just some stupid nightmare. It didn’t mean-  
  
“What name?” but Lance didn’t meant to ask that. He didn’t care about that dream. It was just nonsense. It was _stupid-_  
  
“You don’t know?” now she looked surprised. Her eyes were curious, but their color was duller than he remembered.  
  
What kind of sense of humor did Isabella have? What did this all mean? Was God punishing him? Lance had never been a token altar boy, but this was just mean.  
  
“Oh, Lance,” she shook her head and got close, and for a second he thought she was going to kiss him and laugh and tell him it was just a joke. _Babe, did you really believe that?_ She’d smile and then they’d kiss and forget this had ever happened.  
  
She leaned up on her tiptoes and her hands framed his face. They felt soft and warm for such a cold person. “Please,” Lance muttered, but he didn’t know what he was pleading for. For her not to dump him? So she’d tell him the name? Lance tried to ignore the questions plaguing his mind about the dream, but they wouldn’t go away. Did he always mumble like that? Did it really mean something, like his grandma said? What was that voice? What was the name?

“Please,” he begged again, but she just shook her head, kissing his cheek and denying him an explanation. It felt too much like a goodbye.  
  
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. And then she walked away, leaving him standing alone on the pavement outside her house, flowers already wilting in his hands.  
  
There was nothing to do about it. He could get a boombox and blast _Baby come back_ or throw rocks at her window until the glass shattered. And he _was_ a dramatic guy, if Lance could say so himself, but he didn’t want to make a scene. Especially because he knew Miguel, or rather, he’d seen him before. And Lance was no chicken, nor was he small by any standards, but that guy filled the frame when he walked through a door.  
  
Well, this was sure fucking sad.

 _A boy’s name,_ his mind teased. _Shut up,_ he hissed back.  
  
Lance walked away. Well, more stumbled than walked in the general direction of his house, drunk on heartbreak and high in sorrow. And still with a million questions swimming around his mind, all about the stupid dream. He almost wished it’d rain, at least he wouldn’t feel so alone then. When he looked up the sky was clearer than he’d ever seen it.  
  
_Oh well,_ he sighed _. Might as well do something about it._  
  
So, he went to the beach. Even at night, Varadero was truly a sight for sore eyes. The moon reflected clearly on the slight waves, the cerulean blue darker but still as pretty as it was under the burning sun. The best thing about it was the warmth that still continued into the night, only accompanied by slight winds that kept him cool under the night sky. Lance always thought he’d get used to the sight, but every time he came back it felt like the first time.

It was all very beautiful, but more than anything he’d come for the stars. Through the years he’d always been obsessed with the faraway lights, having memorized so many of their names and the constellations they made. Lance liked counting them, and sometimes he’d fall asleep and wake up damp from the sand, his lips dry from the morning air and sun rising in the horizon behind his head.  
  
It was so entrancing he’d gotten lost in his thoughts and wandered too far down the shore. So far he could see the abandoned shack by the edge of the palm trees a phantom creak making him shiver. That creepy thing. Lance had grown up hearing all kind of stories about it. Rumor said it wasn’t abandoned at all, but that the town crazy still lived there. He’d only seen the man from a distance and in pictures, and though Lance didn’t want to think he could be _that_ crazy, the man sure looked and sounded it.

The newspapers were still covering the story the year after he was born, so his family had them stored and highlighted where his name had then appeared in the ‘births and deaths’ section. He used to sneak the papers out and hide under his bed, staring at the front cover and wondering if it could be true. _MAN CLAIMS WIFE AND SON’S DISAPPEARANCE WAS DUE TO THEIR ‘ESCAPE’ TO ANOTHER PLANET._ Under it was a picture of the man being dragged to the police station in handcuffs, eyes and mouth open in a desperate expression.

The picture along with the story had become engraved in the town’s culture, a ghost story that was never laid to rest and became even crazier through the years. Teenagers took it upon themselves to spread it everywhere, the working ones scaring the tourists and offering tours for only a buck or five. Lance had heard all sort of stories about it, from the shack being haunted to curses about the picture. _If you get close to him he’ll send you to the aliens too. At night you can hear a woman screaming and a baby crying by the old shack. If you talk to him you’ll go crazy too. If you-_  
  
The distinct feeling of eyes on him pulled Lance from his thoughts, a shiver running through his spine at the sudden cold that ran through his body. When he blinked and became aware of his surroundings, there was a man standing on the beach. Startled, he instinctively took a few steps backwards, squinting his eyes to try and make out his face only to notice he had turned to look at the sea. The man seemed so deep in thought, and something about the sight struck a note in Lance’s mind. He looked… familiar. Somehow. But that was just ridiculous. He squinted harder and widened his eyes. With Lance’s luck, it was probably-  
  
The man was turning a knife in his hands.

It was the town crazy.  
  
Something itched through the fear in Lance’s mind. An uncomfortable sense of _deja vu_ that emptied his stomach and made him nauseated at the same time.

_There was a man standing by the shore with a knife in his hand, he was looking up at the sky. Lance looked too, and-_

No. That was just a dream. He pushed it aside, body tensing with muscle memory. _You know him,_ his mind sang, _you’ve seen him before._ _Yes_ , Lance wanted to say, _in the newspaper. It’s not the man from my dreams. It can’t be. I don’t know him. It can’t-_  
  
The man suddenly turned around, the movement making him hunch down instinctively. His rational mind screamed danger, but his insatiable curiosity wanted to get closer. The questions returned then, about the man, about his dream, about the voice. Why did he think the man could hold any of the answers he so desperately craved? But before he could decide between fight or flight, the man just walked towards his shack, Lance’s presence undetected or ignored.

 _What the fuck?_ he reprimanded himself, _you were planning to go in there?_ Sometimes he really couldn’t understand himself. What was wrong with him?

  
Lance let himself get lost in thought again. So the man was living there, or at least frequently visited the shack in the middle of the night. Lance liked to believe it was the latter. It didn’t spook him as much to think he did nightly visits, but imagining him sleeping there? Eating there? He shivered again. It looked old and filthy from the outside, and he wasn’t the cleanest person but that thing couldn’t be wiped clean if you sunk the whole thing in bleach. It had been collecting dust and dirt for 19 years, and it only got worse with every passing day. He couldn’t imagine anyone breathing near or in that thing. Maybe that’s why the sight of the crooked shack was making him uneasy.

 _You’ve seen this before,_ the voice said again, louder. He shook it off, told it to shut up and stop being dramatic, but the feeling kept rising and rising, making his ears ring. For a second he thought he was having an anxiety attack, so he looked up at the sky to try and calm down by counting the stars but there was-  
  
“There’s no fucking way,” he muttered to no one but himself, trying to make some sense of the sight before his eyes. He blinked once, twice. But it didn’t go away. There was a red shooting star in the sky. It was… falling? No. That was just a trick of the eye. It had to be. Lance was too tired, his emotions all over the place. He’d become delusional for sure. It couldn’t be falling down. Lance had to be crazy. The rumors were true, he’d gotten so close to the basket case he was becoming mad himself. Would his hair grow long? Would he be cuffed and put into a cell? Into the loony bin? Or maybe he’d start living in the shack too. How would he live? Would he start believing in-

 _There was a man standing by the shore with a knife in his hand, he was looking up at the sky. Lance looked too, and the red shooting star was falling down._  
  
Oh. Lance was dreaming. He remembered, he always did. It had been plaguing his mind for more than ten years now. But when had he fallen asleep? He tried moving his fingers and they listened, and he told himself to walk and he did. What? That was impossible. One of the most frustrating parts of his dream was that he could never move. That he could hear the star’s voice but couldn’t help. But his legs carried him towards the sea, head tilted up as the star became bigger and bigger. Something about the water made him see it all more clearly.

He knew what he had to do next.

In a trance, he kicked his shoes off and ditched his shirt, standing ankle deep in the sea, waiting. He was ready this time. All those restless nights waking up in a cold sweat, it was all for this.

And so the star fell, and it fell. And as it crashed into the ocean, Lance jumped after it, swimming the hardest he’d ever swam in his life, arms burning with the strain. A boy. There was a boy inside and he was drowning and Lance had to help, had been hearing him loud and clear for the past twelve years of his life.  
  
_You kept saying some boy’s name_. _Something about the sea? And a red star?_

The moon was enough to light his way down, so he held his breath and dived in after the sinking red star.  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Otherwise titled: How many times can I write 'star' before I get tired of it? An Autobiography.


	3. Something Like Zero Gravity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back with Keith. I love him but I also love watching people cry so. Keith will suffer. But only slightly don't worry.

When Keith woke up, he could almost pretend the attack had never happened. Consciousness slowly returning and eyes still closed, the shrill whistling and the red blinking lights of the Galra alarm still rang around him. For a tick he smiled. He’d dreamed of Shiro coming to bother him and the attack.  _ Of course, _ he thought,  _ I just fell asleep during practice, went face first against the floor. _ All that happened had just been a fever dream where ticks had been stretched thin by his unconscious mind into repeats. 

But when he opened his eyes, what welcomed him were the grey insides of the pod, the surface his face was squished against the shiny metal of the main controls, a light flashing on and off somewhere to his right. 

Oh.

Keith groaned, sitting up and stretching his sore back, all that had happened coming back like flashing images into his mind. It had taken  _ repeats _ to outrun the dozens of attack ships trying to harness his pod. But Shiro had spoken truly, he  _ could _ outfly anything. The prince had been flying the castles hover-bikes since he was a cub, even had his own designed to fit his precise measure when his mother deemed him old enough. It was a small thing, not unlike him, but it was as quick and sharp as a knife, cutting the closest turns with the fast flicks of his fingers, reflexes working on the millionth degree.   
  
The blinking light turned from red to green, starting to beep. It was hurried, but not urgent.   
  
“What?” he grumbled at the controls, stretching his arms up. “You tired, Grey?” his mother had told him naming and speaking to things as if they were people was ‘ _ unusual _ ’ and ‘ _ unhealthy _ ’, but he didn’t have anyone around to be judged by, so what did it matter? Things were better than people. They were simple and couldn’t betray him, with a precise function and order of use. They came with manuals and-   
  
_ BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP _ . Okay, now it was urgent.   
  
Before Keith looked over at the light, he could already tell what the problem was, starting to remember the details of what had happened, what Shiro had said before the doors had closed between them. The ship creaked around him, mechanisms whirring and stopping as if confused.  _ Get in and I’ll be right back. I need to get more- _ __  
  
_ BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP _   
  
“No, Grey. No, no, no,” he was starting to panic again, holding onto the shift stick like he could strangle it into making the pod somehow work. The ship started creaking and groaning. Fuel. There was no fuel left. A quick view up showed the alarms were starting to get slower, almost slurring. They sounded scratchy and tired, like they were falling asleep. “ _ Don’t _ give up on me you old thing,” his voice sounded squeaky and high, but it seemed Grey didn’t care for his miserable tone. Or his life. What had he said about things and betrayal? Yeah, he was wrong. Even things hated him.   
  
Keith was a good pilot. A great one even. He would even go as far as saying he was the best. But even he couldn’t fly a ship that was turning off, couldn’t handle the panic of realizing that he was in the ship and it was shutting down around him and  _ he was still in it and quiznack it’s shutting down what do I do? _ Looking through the glass, he could see there was a planet below and the panic started sharpening, making itself more precise. He wasn’t going to end up floating in space until he starved, he was going to crash. The ship was going to fall and burn into a blue and green and white planet that was rapidly getting closer to him and he could do nothing about it.   
  
“Okay,” he said to no one as the the pod’s lights went off. He had never been one to stand by and hope for the best, but all he could do was strap on to the seat and start praying that the land he was falling on was softer than it looked. Keith’s eyes closed as he breathed in and processed his situation. He was probably about to die. The pod was falling. It was falling and falling and falling and falling and the prince could do nothing to slow it down or stop it. He thought about all the things he’d done, and all the thing’s he hadn’t. He thought about the people’s reaction when they heard the news of their late prince. He thought about what Shiro’s work would be when he was gone, about his mother doing the ceremony for his ascension.    
  
Keith bit back a sob and held his chin high. At least he’d die with honor, having done all he could to survive. He’d outflown a hundred ships, he was a fighter and he would go down with all the pride and dignity that came with that title. Shiro’s words filtered into his mind as he held onto the belts. The knight had believed in him, and Keith had done all he could but he was still wrong. The prince was so scared, felt so alone as vertigo overtook him. If Keith regretted one thing, it was not telling him and his mother how much he appreciated them. The prince had been so lonely in the castle, and his mother was his  __ mother but Shiro didn’t have to be nice to him. Especially considering what a brat he was and how awful he’d treated him at the start, and the knight had been kind anyways, always staying by his side or sitting outside his door until he came out, always talking him through the stress and the sadness that came along with his duties as the prince. 

Even with all of that, Keith wondered if the knight could be considered his friend. Shiro was more like a brother or a mentor, and the prince, in the end, was just his job. If Keith survived this, he wanted to make a friend for real, wanted to know what it was like. He’d tried when he was little, and had given up too fast. Krolia and Shiro, his little family, had always been enough and he loved them so much, but the prince would’ve liked to have at least one friend that would miss him when he was gone without any other reason other than because they chose to, not because of any blood relations or because it was their job to do so. Someone to share his dreams with, and like him for who he was. Just… someone. Anyone. He’d never belonged on Daibazaal, always felt so different, somehow misplaced. 

And now he was going to die that same way. Alone.   
  
Keith closed his eyes and looked to where he knew the stars were watching him, so far above yet so close to him at the same time. They felt like a constant, pleasant weight on his heart. People were unreliable, even things abandoned him, but the stars would always be there, for better or for worse. It was the only thing he didn’t mind being helpless about, the only thing he liked knowing he could never change. And even if they died, he wouldn’t know, not until he was long gone along with them. Shiro said to follow them back. But how could he do that if he didn’t survive to do so?

  
“Please,” he whispered. “Please let me-”   
  
But before he could be done, the pod finally made impact, the side of his head slamming against the controls so hard it left him dizzy, starting to feel heavier by the second. For a moment the pod was still, only his mind spinning around him, and then it just kept falling, but slowly now, as if stuck in quicksand. Keith tried to stay awake, but kept falling with it, in and out of consciousness. Everything hurt, it was the only thing he could process along with the gravity and something rising on his legs. It was an unfamiliar feeling, warm and cold at the same time, and it seemed to stick to his skin as it kept rising and rising. The next time he opened his eyes, he could feel it up to his neck. It overpowered every other sense except that he could hear something. A voice was slurring, echoing in the pod, he didn’t understand where it was coming from until he felt the pull of his lips and realized it was him.   
  
“H-help me,” his voice rasped, it was scratchy and barely there, consumed by fear and the pounding in his head. “Please... help m-me,” but who could save him?

  
The world went black again. And suddenly he couldn’t breathe. 

Keith tried screaming but the thing would go in his mouth when he tried to open it. This wasn’t how he had imagined his death. It was too foreign and painful and he didn’t want to die like this. He wanted to struggle but his limbs felt too heavy. Maybe it would’ve been better if he’d let himself be captured. At least then he would die fighting for his life, not screaming for it.   
  
_ Help, _ he tried to say, but his lips wouldn’t make a sound. The edges of his vision started clouding over. This time he knew the darkness was here to stay.  _ I’m sorry Shiro _ , he thought.  _ I’m sorry mom.  _ But as he started to give in to the blur, the pod suddenly exploded with light. A hand reached towards him through the substance, a shadow of a face appearing behind it. It was a boy, fiddling with the belt around his waist. And then he was flying, the boy pulling him up towards the light. It was a nice feeling, reminded him of floating in space with his mother, spinning and laughing in zero-gravity. They’d spun so many times their stomachs had ended up twisting with them, restraining them dizzy but still laughing to Krolia’s bed for a whole round.

At least he got to feel like that one more time. 

The last thing he felt was the shock of cold air going down his throat and a warm body pressed close to his. The boy was so close that even through the darkness clouding over his vision he could see the color of his eyes. Blue. So pretty. They looked like his favorite twin stars.

_ Good night _ , he told them as his vision turned black.   
  


  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keith likes naming things because I say so. Maybe because I have an obsession with doing so too. Maybe.
> 
> Also, I saw the last song made for Adventure Time. Come cry with me. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xr53S9vIbCE
> 
> Time System:
> 
> Second - Ticks  
> Minute - Portions of Repeat (half a repeat, quarter repeat, etc)  
> Hour - Repeats  
> Day - Round  
> Week - Cycle  
> Month - Seasons  
> Year - Rotation (4 Seasons)
> 
> This story is finished, will be updating every day so subscribe if you want!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment if you liked or see any typos!


	4. Varadero, Cuba

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High" is a great Klance song. Only thing I can ever think about when I listen to it, idk why. 
> 
> Also Lance being very confused constantly is a mood. And the recurring dream thing is real, I've been going to the same place since I was like eight. And so Lance shall suffer. Kinda. I'm not mean I swear, I'm just a lazy writer who loves Deus Ex Machina.

_Dark sea. A red light. A man with a knife. Help me help me HELPME HELPM-_  
  
Lance woke up.

Christ. When would that dream stop happening? Yawning, he slowly blinked his eyes open, the last strings of his dream already filtering out to be replaced by the comfortable atmosphere that made up his room. Morning light was filtering in through his window, the smell of the sea and flowers wafting in. But still, there was a sense of lingering fear in his mind, the disorientating feeling of waking up still clouding his senses, early brain still trying to catch up to facts. He couldn’t yet smell his mama cooking breakfast but-

 _Flowers?_  
  
Lance tossed his head only to discover he was lying on the wooden floor of his bedroom, neck hurting from the strain it took to shift after so long of just laying still. His back had become nothing but a line of stiff rocks, creaking and popping as he shifted his body around trying to feel his bones function again. How long had he been on the floor? He would’ve thought he’d fallen off if not for the blanket covering his body and the fact he would have woken up, being the lightest sleeper he knew. Blinking his eyes to rid them of the slight haze that still remained, he frowned, raising his body up onto his elbows just to be able to tilt his head in confusion.

There were browning flowers on the floor by his locked door. _Flowers_ by his _locked door_ . He hurried to look at himself up and down, wondering if he’d been possessed or was currently inhabiting another body, but his skin was the same and his knee still had that same weird crick and there was still a small scar on his left hip bone. What the hell? Lance _never_ locked the door, his mama would break it down if she were to twist the knob and find that it didn’t give under her calloused hand. And for some reason that was beyond his reasoning, Lance had willingly gone to sleep on the floor when his bed was right there beside him. Unless there was someone-

As he looked at the, for some reason, abused roses the memories started filtering in, replacing the fear the dream had brought with confusion, slowly turning it into disbelief. _Ding!_ His five minutes of ignorant bliss were up. It was all coming back now. Isabela. The breakup. The beach. The star. The b-

  
Lance sat up in a hurry, hoping it was just his vivid, _crazy_ imagination messing with his bad memory. But when he looked to his bed there was a figure under it, and no matter how many times he rubbed at his eyes and banged his head dramatically against his hand it wouldn’t deflate. He could hear… _him_ breathing under the covers, watching the lump rise and fall with every tick of the clock on his bedside table. Wild black hair feathered across his pillow and long lashes grazed pale cheeks.  
  
_“Dios. Mio”_  
  
For a second he thought it was just Isabela sleeping in his bed, mind hastening to make some sense of the situation. But he must’ve been crazier than he thought if that had been his first idea. Mama would _never_ let him. Or rather let _her_ . She’d barely let his girlfriend sit on the couch without a poignant glare. _That girl smells like a walking, breathing heartbreak,_ she’d say with a huff, _you can do so much better than that._ Mama _hated_ Isabela, so why would she let her into his room? Into his _bed_? Lance blinked again, hoping that maybe he was still asleep, this only a sudden new addition to his recurring dream, but the seconds dragged by and there was still someone in his bed.

It was the fallen star.

Upon closer inspection, he saw a cut on the boy’s neck and a purple bruise under his eye, golden and heavy looking bangles and jewels adorning his arms and chest where his body splayed over the sheets. His clothes were torn and transparent, a rich red that contrasted with the white skin beneath. Looking around, he could see more of the silk lying around his bedroom, even a long, skirt-looking one next to the bed. There was even a crown on his bedside table. A fucking _crown_.

Lance had definitely gone mad.  
  
Somewhere between where he’d started staring and realized he didn’t know how long he’d been openly gaping at him, the boy opened his eyes, as if he had felt the questions in his mind and decided to get up and answer them. A trick of the light made them look purple as they stared at each other, but their stillness only lasted a second. Lance didn’t even blink twice before the boy appeared on the opposite side of the room, plastered to the wall with a silver knife in his hand. His face was completely distrusting, eyes shifting quickly around the room and blinking too much, like he was trying to process the situation, before they shifted back to him and stayed there. _He’s scared_ , Lance thought, feeling a little bad for the expression of complete and utter confusion probably currently displayed on his face. _He’s probably wondering where he-_

And then the boy promptly started _screaming_ . In another _language_ .  
  
Lance didn’t care about his mental health anymore, didn’t even care about who this boy was and why he had fallen from the sky in his hometown by his favorite spot on the beach. Not when he was screaming his head off and throat raw in Lance’s room at _6 A fucking M_ . If the boy didn’t stop screaming _right now_ his mama was going to find and kill the both of them in cold blood. She wouldn’t care about how confused Lance was, she would just yell until the boy in his son’s room that had gotten in there _without her permission_ got out of it. And there would be no escaping the long punishment that awaited on the other side of _that_ screaming match.

Lance would definitely, absolutely, undoubtedly rather get stabbed.  
  
In a record-setting jump, he leaped across his bed and cornered the boy against the wall. One hand covered his mouth and the other slammed the wrist holding the knife against the wall, having some sense of valor for his own life. The boy’s eyes widened even more and he stopped moving. His eyes were wide and unmoving. _Well_ , he thought, breathing out a sigh of relief. _That wasn’t hard at-_  
  
And then Lance was being flipped and landing face down on the floor, a knife at his throat and a throbbing pain in his hand.  
  
“Did you just _bite_ me?” he didn’t even care to struggle. He was going to die. It didn’t matter if it was by his mother’s hand or by this space princess or whatever the hell he was.  
  
The boy tensed for a second, and then he leaned in close. “English?” he whispered by his ear. An accent sat heavy in his tongue, but Lance could understand it. Years of dealing with tourists and talking through his own accent made it pretty easy.  
  
Oh, had Lance spoken in English? It must be muscle memory with foreign people. They got lots of tourists, it was Varadero after all.  
  
“Yes English, you psycho,” he struggled some more, but the boy’s grip was tight and unmoving against his arm, twisting it more as he tried to get free. What the fuck? This boy was shorter than him, and he looked way skinnier. He’d been like a ninja, judo flipping his over his head like that. If Lance wasn’t so confused he would’ve been impressed, even thought it was a little hot.  
  
“Where am I?” the boy ordered, pressing the knife closer to his skin. He couldn’t believe he’d thought the boy was hot, he was an asshole.

“Varadero,” he exaggerated the pronunciation. “Y’know, in Cuba?”  
  
“Planet?” this was definitely a joke. He was just waiting for the camera to pop out, wouldn’t even mind his brothers and sisters laughing at him for how stupid he’d been to believe it.

“Uh, Earth?”

“Who are you?”

“I got you out of the star!” he said hurriedly. “It was sinking, remember? I saved you!”  
  
The boy paused, Lance felt him shift above him.  
  
“You saved me?”  
  
“Yeah!” Lance was going to nod his head, but he remembered the blade so close and decided against the idea.  
  
“What happened?”  
  
“I was at the beach when it fell. I got you out and brought you here. Y-You were delirious, I think you hit your head. I put you in the bed and- and you were shaking, so I dried you a little and then- then you just fell asleep. That’s all I swear”  
  
“What were you doing at the beach?”

“I was just…” the knife pressed closer. “Stargazing! I was just stargazing”

“Swear it”

“I swear it on my mama’s life!”

The boy seemed to consider him for a second. A minute passed, then two, and then he was being let up. Lance stood up hurriedly as the boy returned to his spot by the wall. It seemed like he wanted to melt into it and disappear, his knife held to his chest like he was clutching at his heart even as his shoulders pulled back. His hair was so long it reached his hips, and his eyes still looked _purple_.

  
Lance was definitely crazy.  
  
“I’m Lance,” he said trying to sound confident even if he was a little terrified about how strange the situation was, just to break the silence and maybe get some answers. His heart was beating too fast, the sense of deja vu returning full force. For some reason, he felt like he already knew what the boy was going to say, like he’d heard it somewhere before. _He looks like Isabela,_ he thought, _that’s why he looks so familiar_ . But it didn’t feel right. Why had he jumped in after the star then? It could’ve been dangerous, but his body had almost moved on its own. Lance had always believed in past lives, maybe they had met in one of them.  
  
“Keith,” the boy whispered.  
  
“Okay, Keith,” Lance sat down at the end of his bed, crossing his arms. And because it was the only way he could think of how to start, he started with the question he’d had since he’d pulled Keith out of the star last night. It was all he could think as he dried him off and before he’d fallen asleep.

“Are you... a star?”  
  
The question seemed to startle Keith, eyebrows scrunching up cutely over his… yep, definitely still, somehow purple eyes. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, eyes blinking rapidly like he was trying to process the question. And then his face lit up and his lips twisted into a smirk.  
  
“Are you?”  
  
  
  
  
  


  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is finished, will be updating every day so subscribe if you want!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment if you liked or see any typos!


	5. A Different Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keith letting his guard down around Lance is canon, so have him being sassy and proud. Also I love confusing him, so there's gonna be a lot of that. 
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

Keith’s pod had fallen.

Keith was in Varadero, Cuba.

No. Somehow Keith was on Earth.

 _Earth_. The magical land his mother set her bedtime stories in. Earth, where his _‘hero’_ of a dad had allegedly saved her. The blue and green planet that caught him when he’d fallen, that didn’t let him die when all of the odds had been against him. Keith had only seen it briefly as the pod spiraled down, the stars here so different from back home. And still, they’d fulfilled his wish. He was _alive_. It didn’t matter how weird it was here, or how hot the air was. It didn’t matter that his ceremonial clothes were ruined and that he could barely see from how bright everything was.

Keith was alive. He’d been saved by the-

No.

_Are you?_

Keith’s savior was named Lance. And Lance had asked him if he was a star and Keith had _teased_ him. This is why his mother called him ungrateful. The more he looked at his… ‘savior’, the more his eyes widened. Lance was taller than him, but he didn’t tower over his head, not having to bend his neck to look at him like most of the people back home did. No, he was only a couple fingers taller than him. It was strange but… felt rather nice.   _I’m so lucky_ , he thought to himself, _we’re both fucked up_. But somehow Lance was even weirder than him. The boy’s ‘ears’ were so small and rounded, they looked like someone had cut them off. How could he even hear the prince when he spoke? Even stranger, his skin was darker than anyone he’d ever seen, and it didn’t carry the natural purple tone Galra did, but looked like the weird dust his mother kept in a jar by her bed, only lighter. What had she called it?

“Dirt,” he said out loud, nodding his head along to the affirmation.

“What?” the prince was starting to get annoyed by Lance’s fascination with that word.

“Your skin,” he continued. “Why does it look like…dirt? That’s what it’s called right? It’s from here?”

“Did you just-” he seemed to have offended Lance, was about to ask why when his savior took a deep breath, hands covering his face. “Do you know what dirt is?” Keith shook his head, he wasn’t about to tell a stranger about his mother’s possessions.

“Have you ever seen anyone that has skin this color?” Keith shook his head again and Lance’s face cleared.

“Oh, okay. Uh, this is just what happens when you’re out in the sun too much. Or you’re born that way. Everyone ranges from uh…,” he pointed to Keith’s face, “from white like you,” and then back to his face, “to tan like me. And skin can be even darker. It’s like having different colored eyes or freckles or moles or… yeah.”

Keith could understand that. “So my,” he thought of the word for a bit, what color had his mother called it? Purple.

“My light purple to… dark purple…. is your white to… tan?”

“If your friends back home are purple, then yeah. I guess”

“Oh,” there was a beat of silence and then the prince processed his words. “Does that mean…,” he looked at his hands. Lance had said that here it ranged from white to tan. White like him? “There’s people here like me?”

All of his life, Keith had been stared at for how strangely white he was, looking like Galra sometimes got when they got too sick, skin losing its color with the rising fever. There was no one else that looked that way in Daibazaal, not permanently like he did. Like he’d tried to explain to Lance, Galra did have variations in skin tone, but it was a very limited spectrum that varied from lighter to darker purples. Keith had been born with what their late priestess had told him was a blessing, his skin the color of ‘starlight’, but Keith had always known he’d been born with some kind of a defect, as if someone had sucked all of the color out of his skin.

“Yeah,” Lance smiled. “You’re still a little pale, but a lot of people look like you. Well, not _like_ _you_ like you. Your eyes are quite weird and your ears-”

“ _My_ eyes?” Keith gaped at him. The prince knew he was a freak, but he wasn’t about to sit there and ake the slander. “ _My_ ears? My eyes are considered _very_ beautiful where I come from. And at least someone didn’t chop off half of my ear!”

“What? I never said they weren’t-” Lance’s tan fingers went up by the sides of his head, covering them unconsciously. “My ears are perfectly healthy and normal, thank you very much. At least I don’t look like I jumped right out of a Lord of the Rings movie!”

“You- you have a lord of _rings_? How does that work?” the prince was very confused and- was Lance _laughing_ at him? Keith’s hands clenched automatically, he didn’t like when people laughed at him. “What? I don’t know what a movie is. Is it some kind of vehicle?” but Lance just started laughing harder.

“Oh my god,” Lance gasped. “ _Vehicle_!”

“I don’t know how this strange planet’s political structure works okay!” Lance stopped laughing when he yelled. As his savior slowly opened his eyes, he seemed to realize his mistake, smile dying as he looked at Keith.

“I’m heir to the throne of Marmora, Prince of Daibazaal, first of his name and son of Krolia the Liberator. I am to take the title of Defender of The Empire That Burned. I’ve outflown a hundred ships escaping from an attack on my castle and I’ve somehow survived a crash that could have- _should_ have killed me. But my prayer for life has been answered, so there must be a reason why I’m still drawing breath. I will _not_ be mocked by some- some boy from this little _‘Earth’_ just because he was the one that dragged me out of the pod”

Keith glared at Lance, trying to catch his breath, daring him to speak another word against him, or worse, start laughing again. But the Cuban boy just stared at him with a look like wonder and awe on his face, as if the outburst had effectively changed his mind. Keith doubted it, Lance was probably just thinking about how weird he was. He probably didn’t care about his title or his story or anything he’d ever done. He was probably regretting getting him out of the pod in the first place. What if Lance was dangerous? What if Earth was? The prince had made a mistake, he’d pissed off the only person in this foreign planet that could help him. How was he supposed to survive when Lance kicked him out? How was he supposed to go back-

“You’re a _prince_?” he was startled out of his thoughts. Lance’s eyes were wide and when Keith didn’t answer he carried on, hands gesturing wildly, voice slow. “A prince from some planet called Daibazaal? Heir to a throne of marmol?”

“Marmora,” he corrected. Why did Lance sound so shocked? Did he not believe him?

“You’re a prince.”

“Yes,” Keith nodded his head, just to get the point across more clearly. Lance looked ridiculous, mouth dropped open as if he had just told him a bedtime story and called it a fact. But apparently, bedtime stories were very real now. So real, apparently, that he’d ended up in one of them.

“You’re a-”

“Are you deaf?” Keith hoped this thing for repeating everything was going to be temporary, because it was starting to become seriously annoying. Also, Lance had to have seen his crown, the prince had been forced to wear it ever since his head was big enough for it not to fall through. The weight in his head had become a constant in his life, almost comforting, a pressure point that worked as a safety line for when he lost his temper. It pulled him tight to the ground when his duty faded to the back of his mind, the heavy gold always reminding him of his responsibility. When he’d woken up, for a second he thought he’d lost it and was, strangely, almost pleased by the fact. But a quick view around the room proved it still stood by him, after so many years, glinting in the sunlight on top of the bedside table, not a scratch on its surface. Why had that stressful thing survived the crash and not his clothes? He’d trade the headaches for the smooth silk any day.

Lance was still gaping at him.

“Would you close your mouth? Your dull teeth disturb me”

“Dull teeth?” Lance rolled his eyes. “Of _course_ you’d think they’re dull, yours went through my skin and you barely clenched your jaw,” when Keith looked down, he could see his savior’s hand was bleeding where his fangs had instinctively bit down on his thumb, the skin around the indentations red and irritated.

“I’m sorry,” he still couldn’t believe he’d bit the boy who’d saved his life, couldn’t really believe how mouthy he was being when he really didn’t know anything about Lance, so the least he could do was apologize for his instincts. Lance’s hand was _bleeding_ , and why, because he got a little scared? Shiro would be disappointed. Just because he was afraid didn’t mean he could act irrationally. His words still echoed through his mind, could even see the knight’s mouth forming them, tight at the edges, always so tense.

 _Keith, you have to concentrate._ But his bones had been too tired, or so he’d told Shiro in an attempt to get a break for it.

 _I can’t,_ the prince had complained. _You have a sword. I have my bare hands and your expectations to carry me through. And you’re like double my size._

 _You’re scared,_ Shiro pointed out, _the enemy won’t care if you’re scared._

 _Of course I am,_ Keith had rolled his eyes. How could he not be? _In a real fight, I’d have a gun and you by my side. I’ll be better. This is ridiculous._

 _And what if you don’t?_ that had left him quiet quick. _What happens when the bullets run out or you lose your knife and there’s no way to beat the enemy? You’ll be scared again. And what then?_  

Keith didn’t have an answer for that. The knight had taught him well, but Keith was still small, and even with all of the training and weapons, he still couldn’t overpower an army, couldn’t even outsmart them. Quick, but always too small. Strong, but never when he needed it most. Young, yet no one dared ask for his heart. Every asset a sung praise from his mother immediately muted by every whispered sneer from the voices around and inside his head. Sometimes he couldn’t shut them up, so he’d learned to surrender completely to them, taking his anger out on the practice drones like Shiro had taught him. Krolia had been opposed to the idea of him facing the bots, but once Keith had returned from town with a split lip and a bleeding nose she’d decided it was for the better he had an outlet for his ‘intense emotions’ as she liked to call them. But it was never enough. The prince had been at his prime when they attacked, and what had he done?

“Keith?” Lance’s eyes were closer than before. They looked so blue. “You okay?”

 _You ran,_ the voice in his head sneered at him, _you ran like the weak, tiny coward you are._

“Keith?”

But Keith had to be alive for a reason. He was on Earth for a reason. The stars had allowed him this for a reason.

“Teach me about Earth,” he said, determination running through his veins. Lance was silent for a second, and then he shrugged, easily crossing his arms and tilting his head at Keith.

“What do you want to know?”

The prince remembered the glint in his mother’s eyes as she’d put him to sleep every night, the love in her voice as she talked about the faraway land he was standing on. _It was so beautiful,_ she’d said, _I wish you could’ve seen it._ She sounded so sad sometimes, so nostalgic. He wanted to understand what was so amazing about it. Needed to see all the beauties she’d gushed about. Keith was meant to. He smiled, surprised his guard was so easily let down, but met Lance’s eyes and held them, almost commanding him.

“Everything”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time System:
> 
> Second - Ticks  
> Minute - Portions of Repeat (half a repeat, quarter repeat, etc)  
> Hour - Repeats  
> Day - Round  
> Week - Cycle  
> Month - Seasons  
> Year - Rotation (4 Seasons)
> 
> Next chapter is... pure. Also you get a peek at Lance's family.
> 
> This story is finished, will be updating every day so subscribe if you want!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment if you liked or see any typos!


	6. Happiness is Universal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lance is bad at making excuses. He's also bad at being subtle. And controlling his feelings. Who knew this was just going to be a story about myself? 
> 
> Also I love Veronica.

Teaching Keith about Earth wasn’t going to be an easy task.

_ Everything _ , the prince had said with shining eyes, but where was he supposed to start? Lace didn’t know what was the same and differed from Keith’s planet, he didn’t know anything about how these ‘Galra’ behaved or talked or walked or anything, really. The prince did look similar to him, but his appearance was still out of this world, quite literally. After further inspection, Lance had confirmed that his eyes were indeed violet, and his ears were slightly longer than his and pointed like he’d told Keith before. And he said he wanted to see the world, but Lace noticed how his eyes were barely open, blinking repeatedly as if trying to get rid of the brightness. Lance didn’t even want to think about how weird this Daizabaal or Daibazaal or whatever was. 

And why wasn’t  _ he _ freaking out? A space prince with purple eyes had fallen from the sky and practically ordered him to teach him the ways of the earth and Lance had just said yes, completely in line with his freelance attitude, but still, what the hell?  _ Get it, _ he thought to himself,  _ freelance? _ Funny, but Keith probably wouldn’t have laughed. As Lance gave him a better look, he noticed how the prince swayed slightly from on side to another. The crash, alien planet, alien weather. Probably a head injury or five. Okay, Lance could deal with that.

Probably.

By God’s good grace, and He owed some to Lance after that stunt he’d pulled last night, his mama never walked up to his door while they’d... chaotically gotten to know each other.  Without touching him, because Keith seemed very adverse to touching to the point of hissing at him when he’d tried to help him sit, Lance was able to sit Keith down on the bed and got him to stay there without making a sound while he sneaked out of his room to the bathroom to get the medic kit. The sound of their front door opening and closing resounded through the thin walls, and his mama’s voice started complaining in rapid Spanish as he looked through the cupboards. 

So that’s why she hadn’t heard them, thank God.

After sneaking back in and talking Keith through cleaning his wounds, Lance suggested the prince lie down and rest for a while and was rewarded by the universal ‘are you serious’ face mixed with the same wariness that’d been in his eyes before. 

“Why do want me to sleep?”

“It’s like 6 AM,” Lance said. “Plus, breakfast isn’t ready yet”

“So?” the prince spoke to him like he was talking to one of the servants Lance assumed he had. “I’m perfectly well rested and I don’t need food. You can just start now”

Lance wanted to say that he was still trying to figure out exactly what to tell or show Keith first and really try and process whatever the fuck was currently happening when there was a knock at his door. The prince’s eyes widened with his as they both turned to look at it. Lance would feel unlucky if he didn’t know about his mother’s aversion to knocking. The two seconds he was given to kick Keith out of his room were truly heaven sent.

“Out the window,” he whispered harshly as he quickly stood to open the door. His mama may knock but she would not hold back from just waltzing in. 

“Mama!” he greeted as he opened the door a crack. He could see Keith opening the window at the edge of his vision.

_ “Hola amor,”  _ in typical mom fashion she pushed at the door to step into the room, glancing around and turning her nose up a little at his unmade bed. She didn’t make a comment so he assumed Keith had escaped successfully. _ “¿Otra vez cayéndote de la cama? Que torpe, mijo... Solo quería dejarte saber que ya había llegado y que te toca limpiar los platos” _

_ Well, you could’ve waited five minutes before checking in on me! _ he wanted to say but just nodded and assured her he’d be dressed and out to do the dishes after he got a quick shower. Thankfully he was released with just a stern look and a kiss to the cheek, her voice insisting he hurry through the door, but that had been too close. He would have to come up with a way for Keith to sleep in his room without it looking suspicious, had to find a way for the prince to-

Wait. Lance went to check outside his window for the prince, ready to pull Keith in when he was rewarded with the sight of his empty backyard and a figure limping towards the beach. Of course he couldn’t wait one fucking minute for Lance, he just had to go explore or whatever he wanted to do.

“What are you doing?” he panted as he caught up with Keith. It wasn’t difficult, but he was still a little disoriented and tired from the early hour. 

“I need to find my pod,” oh, that made sense how?

“It’s in the bottom of the ocean,” Lance laughed, “and why do you need it anyway?”

But Keith didn’t stop walking, he actually started speeding up his pace. 

“There’s a radio inside,” he explained. “I need to get to it so I can contact Shiro. I need to know if he’s- I need to know what happened. I need to- Wait. Did you say the ocean?” Lance nodded. “There’s no way that’s real,” the prince laughed, shaking his head as he continued stomping away.

“What? Of course it’s real,” he could hear his own voice getting high-pitched with disbelief. Didn’t Keith have an  _ ocean _ ? What kind of hell did he live in? 

Finally Keith stopped, turning to look incredulously at him. “There’s no way”

“You fell right into it!”

It was at that moment that Keith seemed to notice his surroundings for the first time, squinting his eyes and turning only to freeze at the sight of the sea as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. His lips dropped open and he started laughing.

“The ocean,” his voice exclaimed. Violet eyes turned on him, looking even more surreal in the sunlight. “Mom’s story… It’s  _ real _ .”

“What story?” but Keith didn’t answer him, just started running towards the shoreline. When he got to it he slowed his pace, standing just millimeters from where the water came and went with the tide. As it started coming towards him, he stumbled back, almost falling on his butt if not for Lance pulling him back upright. The prince tensed a little at the touch but didn’t get angry, only spared him a moment’s glare to look back at the water. The next time it came back he stepped right into the wet sand, gasping when he felt how warm it was. Keith looked absolutely entranced by it, walking further into the sea with slow, tentative steps. 

Lance wondered how he would look completely submerged in, eyes closed and features completely relaxed, blissed out of his mind. As panic had been crowding his mind, he hadn’t been able to admire the beauty of the prince floating underwater as he’d pulled him out of the pod, but as he watched him now, with the water up to his thighs and his spaced-out expression, Lance selfishly wished he had. 

And then he became aware that Keith wasn’t stopping, hand reaching out and dragging him back just as he was about to step into the sudden dip into deeper sea. They both stumbled down into the sand with the sudden movement in a flurry of limbs and startled sounds. As the soft waves lapped at their arms and necks, Lance prepared himself to be yelled at, but when he looked at Keith’s expression his heart skipped a beat. Happiness was universal too, it seemed, and Keith wore it beautifully. Long black hair stuck to his neck and shoulders as his lips spread in an open smile, white fangs shining in the sun.

“I love the ocean”

_ I love- _ he started to think but immediately shut the voice in his head out. That was ridiculous. Lance had always developed quick crushed but this was just impossible. They’d barely met.  _ But you know him, _ the voice piped up again, _ and he knows you.  _ What? Lance really was going crazy. Keith’s voice pulled him out of his disbelief, a word he didn't understand but sounded strangely like ‘fuck’ or at least some variation of it. The prince was frowning up at the clear sky, fighting the brightness by blinking repeatedly but not looking away, apparently unaware he was practically sitting in Lance’s lap.

And then Keith spoke slowly, sounding extremely worried. 

“What happened to your  _ moons _ ?” 

God. Lance sure had a lot of work to do.

 

* * *

 

 

“Let me get this straight,” his mama said, hands on hips and eyes wide. “So this friend of yours Keith, he got kicked out of his house by his parents. And he  _ somehow _ had money saved so he decided to get away and come  _ here, _ to  _ Varadero _ of all places?” 

Lance was almost afraid to nod. The story sounded even crazier when his mama was saying it back to him, but it was the best he could come up with that explained Keith’s accent. He’d thought about telling her the prince was some lost tourist, but that would just end up on her calling the police to try and get him back home. This story was at least somewhat more believable, and his mama had always been a big mother hen, reason why their family was so big, so he’d predicted a good sob story would make her a little more receptible to the lie. But there was a certain look in his mama’s eyes, like she wanted to believe him but couldn’t quite swallow the lie. 

“How did you even meet him?” she questioned suspiciously.

“The space program, remember? Where I met Hunk and Pidge? We were all friends there?”

“And why have you never mentioned him? Why wouldn’t he go to Pidge if she was closer?”  _ damn _ , he thought. His mother was making too many questions, questions he was unprepared for.

“Well… ” Lance started to panic, trying to rub his hands subtly behind his back so his mama wouldn’t see how worried he was. What would he do if he couldn’t get Keith to sleep over? Where would the prince even go? God, he hadn’t thought this through enough, had he? He was about to blabber about some facebook group and pray his mama didn’t ask to see it later when Keith wondered in through the backyard, clutching at his head with his eyes adorably scrunched up. 

“Lance?” he said tiredly. “My head’s starting to hurt. I think I need-”

_ “Dios santisimo,” _ his mama’s voice startled Keith, stopping him in his tracks. It was warm and low, like how she’d speak when he was upset about something, almost a whisper between the three of them. When he turned to look at him, Keith’s eyes had gone wide and were fixed on him, hand by his thigh where he kept his knife. Had the prince really not listened to a word he said? Lance told him to stay outside until he came back to get him, but he had just screwed up-

His mama was getting closer to Keith.

“Mama?” the prince was wary of touch, so he didn’t think his mama crowding in on him like the security men would whenever he entered a store and provoking him to lash out would help their situation in any way. But his mama just ran the back of her fingers gently on Keith’s cheek. Lance sent a silent  _ thank you _ when he saw his long hair was at least covering his weird ears. 

“He can stay here,” she said suddenly, breaking the shocked silence that had settled over them. “For as long as you like,  _ querido” _

_ Thank God _ , he thought, crossing himself behind his mother’s back before she turned in his direction to go past him to the kitchen. He didn’t even want to think about how weird that had just been. Why had she accepted so easily after she’d questioned Lance so harshly? And then just turned and went on as if nothing had ever happened? It really did feel like he was still stuck in a dream.

“He can stay in your room,” she called, leaning over closer to him as she passed. _ “Es una belleza,”  _ she whispered sneakily, clapping him gently on the cheek and laughing as she carried on to start making breakfast. Veronica then promptly strutted into the kitchen with a tub of ice cream and a spoon in her hand. She tilted her head and pointed at Keith with the spoon. 

“ _ ¿Y la nueva flaquita de Lance, quién es? _ ” she raised her eyebrows at his mama, ignoring his indignant calling of her name.

“ _ Mejor _ ,” his mama laughed gleefully as she opened the fridge, starting to take out the food. “ _ Es flaquito. Y van a dormir en el mismo cuarto _ ,” sometimes he really felt alone in this family, they were so mean to him.

“What?” Keith piped adorably from where he’d taken a spot on the table, eyes flicking back and forth between them as he tried to keep up.

“Nothing, kid,” Veronica smirked as she turned to go back to her room, calling back over her shoulder. “It’s just Lance’s week is gonna be very…  _ hard _ to to get through”

Keith just sat confused, watching Lance start to chase her around the couch as he screamed all the curse words in Spanish he knew, their mama complaining about his bad manners from her place by the sink. And this was only their first day. It was going to be a long… Lance didn’t even know how long this would carry on.

He just prayed he could get through it.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keith x Ocean is my favorite ship. 
> 
> Translations:
> 
> \- Hola amor. ¿Otra vez cayéndote de la cama? Que torpe, mijo... Solo quería dejarte saber que ya había llegado y que te toca limpiar los platos. -- Hey love. Once again falling out of bed? How clumsy... I just wanted to let you know I was here and it's your turn to wash the dishes.
> 
> \- Dios santisimo. -- Holy God. 
> 
> \- Querido. -- Dear (or darling)
> 
> \- Es una belleza. -- He's a beauty.
> 
> \- ¿Y la nueva flaquita de Lance, quién es? -- Whose Lance's new girlfriend?
> 
> \- Mejor. Es flaquito. Y van a dormir en el mismo cuarto. -- Better. It's boyfriend. And they're sleeping in the same room.
> 
> This story is finished, will be updating every day so subscribe if you want!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment if you liked or see any typos!


	7. Three Parts To A Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keith learns a new concept of time so you don't have to! He also learns that he's still a teenage boy and has feelings. And the plot thickens! Yay!

When his mother told Keith about Earth he never believed a word of what she said. Partly because it was just a bedtime story and also because it was just too bizarre. Even when he was a cub, he’d always thought it was too crazy to ever be anything more than a bedtime story. No matter how serious Krolia got sometimes and the sad look she’d get in her eyes, Keith had grown to think that was just because of how she had to lie to cover up the fact his father had abandoned them. But now he was starting to question that fact, shining a new light onto it and building a new sense out of it. 

Earth was real. Everything his mother said had been true.

So maybe she didn’t lie. Maybe he wasn’t just some random asshole. Could it be that he was always a hero after all, like when the prince was still young and naive?

Keith felt like a cub just thinking about it.

When he woke up, Lance told him he’d apparently fell asleep as soon as he’d finished eating and slept all through the to the next rou- no. To the next day. Today. Keith spent all morning sitting on the bed surrounded by books as Lance also told him about the ocean and the sand and the stars and constellations and what they meant and everything and anything he asked about. The prince had thought it was so bizarre how earth only had one moon, open-mouthed as Lance explained nothing had happened to it and that was just how their solar system worked. He told him too about days and hours and weeks and months and years. And Keith, in return, told him about the way they measured time as well. 

“So you have like three parts to a day?” Lance asked like it was so weird, “and then your seconds, minutes, hours and weeks are basically the same, but you count your seasons as months and four seasons are one… rotation?” 

Keith nodded. Lance was a quick learner. Even if he made a lot of jokes the prince didn’t understand the Cuban was very smart, or so it seemed to him. Later, after eating and watching Lance chase after his sister again, Keith insisted to be taken to where the pod had fallen and told him so, thinking it was only polite to do so after he’d been such a burden.

“Oh, no no no,” Lance laughed weirdly, rising a hand to rub at his neck. “It’s just- It’s all basically the same, just with different names. Not hard. Not at all.”

And then Lance’s face turned  _ red _ .

“Are you okay?” Keith frowned up at him, but Lance just got even redder. “What’s going on? Why is your face all red?” what if Lance was sick? Was something wrong with his skin?

“I’m fine!” the Cuban said, walking faster and leaving Keith behind, still worrying over his savior’s health. 

“Are you sure? Because I don’t think that’s-”

“I’m just blushing, Keith,” oh. Keith knew what that was. There was only one slight problem.

“But why is it  _ red _ ?” Lance stopped and looked at him with disbelief for a second, and then just rolled his eyes.

“What color do  _ you _ blush?” he said in a defeated tone.

“Purple?” because that was what  _ healthy _ Galra did? But Keith had to remember that Lance was human. From a different  _ planet _ than his. Their anatomy may have looked the same but it definitely didn’t work the same way. Lance sighed and the prince heard him saying something under his breath that sounded like ‘of course you do’ before he started walking again, gesturing with his hands. It was something he did a lot, Keith noted. Lance’s was so expressive. It was… interesting.

“So, the radio you said?

The beach here was emptier than before, looking more natural than where they’d come from. It was completely clear except for a small shack by the palm trees farther away from them. Something about it made Keith feel… weird, for some reason. But he just blamed it on the situation as a whole and turned to look where Lance was now pointing. 

“So your pod fell like…,” he squinted his eyes at the horizon and tilted his head. “Maybe twenty, twenty-five meters in? Don’t worry,” the Cuban assured when he noticed Keith’s expression. “You don’t have to go in. Just tell me what I’m looking for and I’ll go get it,” he definitely didn’t want to go to the deep part Lance had talked about. The water was amazing, but falling into it? Keith remembered the feeling of it rising slowly up his body when he was trapped in the pod, going into his mouth and not letting him breathe as he lost consciousness. 

Was Lance crazy? The ocean was beautiful, but it felt a lot like zero-gravity. How was Lance supposed to get there with no jet-packs? Keith tried telling him how dangerous it was, but the Cuban just laughed and told him not to worry about it. He said that he’d been swimming since he was born and that it was perfectly safe, even assured him that this could wait for tomorrow. 

“I mean, we have time don’t we?”

The prince stopped to think about his castle getting blown up, his people living in fear under whoever was after them. It was probably Lotor, successor to the throne when Daibazaal had earned its title of The Empire That Burned under Sendak’s command. The prince had disappeared after Krolia killed the unmerciful king and was presumed to be dead, but Keith had always thought he was alive, waiting for the perfect moment to strike and reclaim the throne as his own. As if he deserved it after all the suffering Sendak had put his people through. Krolia wasn’t loved and called ‘The Liberator’ for nothing. Keith thought about his knight getting blown out into space, about his mother being kept in a cell until she starved. 

The prince explained how the radio looked.

“Why is it so important?” Lance asked when he finished explaining, taking his shirt off. “It probably won’t even work. Plus, I don’t think its range can be that great considering we’re on different planets”

“Galra radios can reach across galaxies,” Keith explained, looking to his hands so he didn’t have to look at Lance’s chest. “I need to see if I can contact Shiro to see what happened, or at least listen in on what happened to the castle,” Lance just nodded as he untied his shoes.

The prince felt…  _ indecent _ looking at Lance’s body. His savior was so different from him, but humans still had a very similar anatomy to Galra. Even if Galra weren’t big on clothes, they still always wore shirts and pants, even if they were practically transparent or barely covered anything, but the latter was frowned upon. Keith had always been a bit of a rebel and insisted of using deep necks and short skirts, of course, but he only got away with it because he was the prince, he’d never actually seen anyone else be completely  _ bare _ , and worse, in  _ public _ . Curiosity got the best of him however, and he spared a quick glance as the Cuban pulled off his pants, swallowing a little at the way the muscles tensed underneath. He wondered if Lance was a prime example of his people and decided it was safer not to ask, instead trying to handle his hormones by thinking about the danger he was in. 

“Just be careful,” he said and Lance smirked, walking towards the ocean. 

“As you wish,” were his last words as he dived in, gliding across the water like he had been born in it. Keith watched as he disappeared under the waves and tried not to worry. He tried entertaining himself by looking at the sea but it made him too nervous, memories surfacing again as he stared at the water, so he walked a little down the shore, trying to calm himself down. Paranoia had always been a set personality trait on his system, his mother always told him so, but Keith considered this situation stress appropriate. Even if his emotions did get the best of him, he thought he was handling marvelously, considering the circumstances. He wondered what Shiro would say if-

There was a sound, startling him out of his thought. Turning, he saw the little shack’s door open and a man walk out. As Keith was still not used to the bright sun, he squinted his eyes a little to try and make out the details but it was to no avail. The man was too far away and the heat distorted his figure. Even if he wasn’t moving, the prince couldn’t-

Wait. What?

The man wasn’t moving. And Keith couldn’t see him that well, but he could tell he was looking straight at him. He swallowed nervously, hoping the man would just ignore him and keep walking, but as the seconds passed and passed the man still wouldn’t move. And it looked like he had something in his hand and - Keith swallowed hard - it looked like a  _ knife _ . Keith was about to turn and start running in the opposite direction when he was startled by the sound of Lance breaking the surface of the water, turning to check if he was carrying the radio and calming a little when he saw that he was, swimming languidly towards the shore, the weight probably slowing him down. When Keith turned back to look at the shack the man was gone from view.

Just in case, the prince still pulled out his knife. 

“Hey,” Lance’s voice sounded wary and a little breathless as he walked out of the water, barely registering as he put the radio down by Keith’s feet, eyes still glued to the shack. Not even Lance’s bare body distracted him from his careful monitoring. He was ready to fight if he had to. “You okay? Why do you have your knife- Oh,” Lance seemed to have followed his gaze. “The old shack? Don’t worry, it’s mostly empty”

“There was a man,” Keith urgently said. “He was looking at me”

“Oh,” but this time it sounded more worried and tenser than before. “We better get going then. Don’t worry, he was probably just wondering about why you had such long-”

“He had a knife,” that seemed to quickly shut Lance up. The Cuban leaned down to grab the radio with one hand and offered his other to Keith.

“We better hurry back then,” the prince rolled his eyes at the hand, but he was so tense it left him a little dizzy. So dizzy, apparently, he ended up taking the offered hand and started briskly walking with Lance. What was wrong with him? If his mother could look at him now…

“Don’t worry,” his savior told him, squeezing his fingers and hoisting the radio higher on his waist. “It’s just the town crazy. He’s… well. Crazy. But he’s harmless,” but he didn’t sound so sure about it.

“Why is he crazy?” he asked after he deemed they were a safe distance away from the man with the knife. The  _ crazy _ man with the knife. And then Lance started laughing. He laughed so hard he dropped the radio on the sand, laughing even more as Keith reprimanded him for it.

“What? Why is it so funny?”

Lance turned to look at him, running his eyes up and down his body twice while his smile got bigger and bigger, laugh louder and snortier, as if the sight of Keith was the funniest thing he’d ever seen in his life. The prince was about to yell at him for laughing at him again when Lance put his hands on his shoulders, pulling his face in centimeters from his. Keith didn’t even have the energy to fight it. Seriously, what was wrong with him?

“He believes in aliens!” 

Keith didn’t understand what was so funny about it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is finished, will be updating every day so subscribe if you want!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment if you liked or see any typos!


	8. The Truth Will Set You Free

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh so many kudos! I feel the validation. Thank you all!
> 
> Tiny bit of mystery. Oh, and this 'sibling suddenly appears only to make an embarrassing comment and then promptly disappears' is a THING. My siblings do it all the time and I, too, love doing it.

“ _ Llego la belleza!” _ exclaimed his mama as they walked into the house from the beach the next day. “And my son,” she teased, frowning as she took a closer look at them. “Both… wet? What- You know what? I don’t want to know. Lunch will be ready in a few, okay?”

Lance had taken Keith to the beach again at his request, walking with him through the shallow parts because the prince wanted to ‘investigate’, but he could tell it was just because of how much he liked the water. And, because he was a certified McClain, he tried to playfully pretend-shove Keith to the deeper part (without letting go of his shirt, of course) but it resulted in Keith flinching back so violently they’d ended up toppling over into the water together. So now they walked dripping into the house, his brother Luis tossing them some towels. Lance tried not to stare as the prince carefully patted his hair and body down, the now translucent clothes sticking to and showing the pale skin beneath.

_ “Sube los ojos, chibolo, _ ” teased Veronica as she passed behind him, slapping his back and laughing as Lance felt the blush creep up his face. Ignoring Keith questioning him as to why his face had decided to imitate an open flame, he distracted himself by lifting the radio onto the living room’s table, disappearing into the garage to get the toolbox and just  _ breathe _ a little, ditching his shirt in the hamper on the way back and trying to ignore his mama’s teasing. 

Ever since he’d come out to her about being bisexual, she’d make comments about every person she saw that she deemed worthy of her son, embarrassing him more than even when she’d make him dance in front of all of his family on her birthday. It wasn’t that Lance didn’t like his mother’s accepting nature, he absolutely loved and appreciated it. And he loved dancing too, losing himself to his mother’s favorite songs and melting into her warm hugs and  _ you were lovely _ ’s when he finished. But having so many eyes on him at the same time, on both scenarios, made him a little uncomfortable. And by a little he meant a lot.

When he came back to the living room, Keith’s knife was already in his hand, leaning over the table as he tinkered with the radio. He’d managed to unscrew two of the locked panels when Lance settled opposite him to start working with the screwdriver to try and open the other two. It took them a few minutes getting used to working so close together, but by the time lunch was ready, Keith had already talked him through all the necessary steps to fixing the broken radio, voice quick and quiet as he dried mechanisms that looked similar to the bombs he saw in movies and taped wires back together until they were sealing the panels back closed.

“Hey, we make a great-”

“Lunch’s ready!” his mama’s voice cut him off. Lance stood up and offered a hand for Keith to follow, not missing the slight purple hue high in his cheekbones as he accepted the help up but choosing not to comment on it, not wanting to get a pointy elbow shoved between his ribs again.

“So Keith,” oh no. His mama had held herself back for a whole day, but now she was ready to attack Keith. They hadn't had time to prepare their story yet. Shit. “Where are you from?”

“I…” the prince was at a loss for a second, shifting his eyes quickly to Lance and turning when he shook his head. “I’m from an alien planet called Daibazaal. It’s some light years away,” he said, with a perfectly straight face. 

Christ.

Silence stretched between them for a few seconds. Lance couldn’t believe he’d just said that, they were totally screwed. So fucking- 

And then his mama started laughing.

_ “Ay Dios,” _ she said heartily. OH. Lance remembered how she had always been a fan of deadpan, clap back humor and felt the tension bleed out of his shoulders, laughing a little with her. This was  _ perfect _ , he could tell she was going to have fun with Keith’s obviously sassy and sarcastic nature and it seemed to have worked at distracting her, as she didn’t pry at him again and only continued with the next question. “That was so perfect. You remind me of my husband. _ Ay Dios _ … and- and how did you get here?”

Keith was smiling slightly now, seemingly noticing what a good strategy it was to make her laugh with the truth instead of answering her questions with unprepared lies, because he proceeded to answer in a perfectly straight face: “My escape pod malfunctioned, it ran out of fuel and I crashed into the ocean. From space,” and his mama continued laughing, making him laugh harder and Keith crack a smile until they were all laughing together as they tried finishing their food. Lance took over Keith when the prince started focusing more on his plate. He told his mother scrambled eggs were made of space wolves eggs where Keith came from, and their version of toast was more like deep fried loaves of wood, proud of how he could make his mother laugh so easily.

Lance was about to say that their coffee was made of the blood of their enemies when the radio started sizzling with static, the prince’s head shooting to the side and already getting up before he excused himself and hurried to sit by it, messing with the knobs and tiny levers on top of it. He frowned as he continuously pressed on one diamond shaped button. It looked like he was searching for a radio station, as he listened for a few seconds to the blabber of indecipherable voices and pressed it again, repeating the process over and over. Every time he clicked it the voices appeared to change languages, making the prince's frown turn deeper and deeper. 

It made Lance swallow his food a little harsher than before. He thought he’d omitted the shock of Keith being an alien, but everything he did just seemed to dig it into Lance’s mind harder and harder until he became the complete stranger that he objectively was. The voice in his head telling him about how this was their  _ destiny _ or  _ whatever _ it blabbered on about didn’t matter, he was starting to think that’s just what his brain told him to try and cope with the situation. But that wouldn’t make any sense. It wouldn’t explain why he’d been having that dream for so long, or why Keith’s voice and face and everything he did seemed so familiar. It didn’t explain why Lance’s crazy little heart was starting to fall in-

Suddenly Keith’s fingers stopped pressing on the buttons as a hushed voice started filtering through the speakers and he carefully listened for a while, lips and jaw tensing, fingers clenching into a tight fist on the table. He remembered how Keith’s language had sounded like a mix of French and Korean when he’d been screaming the other day, noticed how that same panicked tone now carried through the living room and into the kitchen.

_ “¿Y ese qué lenguaje es?” _ his mama piped up from beside him. He told her it was french without breaking his view from Keith, knowing she’d have no way of confirming it, and ignored her excitement and chatter about him knowing such a beautiful language and how marvelous that was. The prince’s eyes turned to look at him, wide and serious. Lance could tell whatever he’d heard wasn’t good news, but Keith just shot a quick glance at his mama and turned the radio off, stiffly standing up and walking back to the table. 

“What did it say?” Lance whispered as his mama stood up to collect the plates and leave them in the sink, but Keith didn’t answer his question. He stood up to go after his mama and asked for a sewing kit, accepting it when she took it from a cupboard and disappearing down the hall and into his room. Lance stood too, was about to follow him when he remembered it was his turn to do the dishes again. He tried to ignore the feeling that this was just the calm before the storm, but it sunk deep into his skin as he cleaned the white ceramic. Something told him they were in danger, that Keith was in danger. It made his stomach turn, no matter how much he tried to rationalize it. Before he realized what he was doing, Lance was already swearing he’d keep the prince safe, no matter what. 

What had he gotten himself into?

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations: 
> 
> \- Llego la belleza! - The beauty is here!
> 
> \- Sube los ojos, chibolo - Pull your eyes up, kid
> 
> \- Ay, Dios - Oh, God
> 
> \- ¿Y ese qué lenguaje es? - And what language is that?
> 
> ___________________________
> 
> What do you think Keith heard on the radio? 
> 
> Preview: A certain prince learns how mirrors work and a certain Cuban just can't keep his mouth shut. And Keith sews because I say so (and I read a very cute ereri fic about knitting and just? fell in love? It's called The Stag In The Dark by shulkie, go make yourself a favor and read it)
> 
> This story is finished, will be updating every day so subscribe if you want!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment if you liked or see any typos!


	9. Rightfully Mad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Otherwise titled: Keith Is Very Stressed And Very Gay. Same.
> 
> I like this chapter very much, hope you do too!

Keith wasn’t really good at dealing with stress. Or stressful situations. Or stressful people. So having to escape from his planet only to land in the set for his mother's fairy tales while the only people he’d ever cared about were being held hostage by someone who’d been presumed dead and threatening to kill them if he didn’t find Keith in a week was…

Stressful. To say the least.

_And how do you deal with stress?_ his mother had lectured as she cleaned a cut on his face, _training until you hurt yourself? Getting into fights with the people you’ll have to reign over one day?_ Too afraid to answer anything that would get him a harsher punishment than what he already probably had, he’d just shaken his head no, his mother’s fingers leaving his face only to comb through his hair.

_I want you to help me with something,_ she’d said while kissing his forehead, pulling his long black strands into a low ponytail. _My dress for the meeting next cycle is a little too loose, and I’d like for you to sew it a little tighter._ But it wasn’t a request. Later that day Keith learned his punishment was learning how to sew. It took him a while, but he found as he pushed the needle through the soft fabric that the repetitive activity was strangely relaxing. He didn’t stop fighting the bots, but from that day he’d started sometimes trading his knife for the sewing kit to leave his frustrations behind that way. Shiro had tried making fun of him one day when they were training. The next morning the knight woke up to his clothes all torn up.

_Want me to fix them for you?_ he’d pretended to sound concerned, trying not to laugh. Needless to say, Shiro never teased him about it again.

But now, he didn’t have a practice bot to annihilate while pretending it was Lotor, and he couldn’t really do much to solve the most pressing problem of getting back to Daibazaal. So when he’d heard the news of his planet’s misfortune, he decided to sit in Lance’s bed and focus on sewing his ceremonial clothes back together. After the second day of waking up in an unfamiliar bed, Keith couldn’t ignore how the unfamiliar fabric felt so warm and foreign on his skin, and the thought of Lance drying him that first night and changing his clothes while he was asleep and defenseless bubbled up again in his mind again, making his cheeks feel warm.

Quiznack. How could he be thinking about that when his family was probably in mortal danger? Keith was always so confused by his mind, it always seemed to want to annoy more than help him.

Focusing back on his clothes, he was pleased to find that somehow his robes were only torn on the long train part and only had a few cuts and scratches by the wrists, making it easy to make them presentable again. They’d also been washed in Lance’s weird machine, so when he was done sewing it back together, Keith closed the door to change into them. They smelled clean when he pulled them over his head, not like the unpleasant musk that stuck to the back of his throat after they’d fallen into the sea. For all the fun it was splashing in the water, the smell of the dried clothes after it was simply awful, and that wasn’t considering the feeling of the scratchy, salt-soaked fabric. He shivered, shaking his head to focus on the task at hand. All of his jewelry had been left in a small pile on the bedside table, the only one missing being the one Shiro snatched off when he’d pushed him into the pod. He tried not to think about it but his hand crept up to his neck unconsciously, lightly scratching the already fading burn mark there.

The knight was strong, so he repeated that again and again to soothe his mind. It was Shiro, he was hired for situations like this, he would take care of his mother, there was no doubt about it. But thinking about his mother being held in a cell made him anxious, hand creeping to where he was thankful to notice the fabric that held it high up his thigh hadn’t been messed with, touching it to reassure himself that his blade was still safe there, always ready for his usage.

The door opened as he was placing the golden crown over his head.

“What are you doing?” Lance asked, hand still on the doorknob. He looked like he wanted to ask something else but decided against it, closing the door and walking towards him, eyes running up and down his body. He had developed a knack for it apparently. The prince wanted to be annoyed by it, but it just made him flustered.

“I have yet to practice,” Keith spared him a glance, formal speech taking over his brain to cover his nervousness, trying to fix the crown over his head but unable to tell if it was straight without assistance from his knight. He started to call for Lance but realized the Cuban wouldn’t understand if it was placed correctly. Why would he, after all?

“What?” Lance scoffed, noticing his attempt and sounding a little offended. “Need servants to put your crown on for you princess?”

“No…” Keith felt himself blush again, refusing to rise to the bait even though he wanted to. He had to remind himself that Lance didn’t _know_. He didn’t know how his life worked, didn’t know how important this was to him. He didn’t know what had happened to his family Lance didn’t know _anything_ about him, as much as Keith didn’t know anything about  _him_. He looked down and cleared his throat, fixing the lapels on his chest a little and tightening the sash on his waist. “It’s just- I can’t tell if it’s put on properly”

“Well…” Lance elongated the word, his voice sounding like a weird mix between condescending and genuinely concerned. “You should use the mirror then.” When Keith failed to understand, he raised an eyebrow. He could tell Lance was about to start rambling again and decided it was best to cut him off before he made another joke he couldn’t understand.

“A what?”

The prince was good at reading people’s emotions, even if he couldn’t control his own, and he was pleased to be able to identify his savior’s series of thoughts. Shock and then disbelief, a touch of sadness that finally settled on understanding and wonder. Lance was so expressive, it was truly a spectacle to see. Galra, including him, were taught to control their faces by the time they neared a dozen rotations so they would be prepared to join the armed forces and fight for their country if need be. They had to be prepared in case someone tried to take it away from them once more like Lotor had come to do when he’d been sent off. Galra were soldiers before they were anything else in life, it was just the way it had always been.

And then the prince had landed on Earth.

From what he could tell by looking at Lance and his family, humans didn’t really preoccupy themselves with hiding their emotions or controlling their feelings, they freely laughed as much as they cursed and cried. It was so bizarre. Keith was only used to laughing with his family, and even that was limited for absolute privacy, anyone else had always remained shut off from him, as they were meant to be. And now these two strangers had touched and smiled so brightly at him. It felt like home, even when he was so far away from it. Keith could understand now, the warmth of his mother’s eyes when she’d tell him about Earth. Could feel it in his bones when he’d laughed with them.

_It’s all so beautiful_ , a memory of her voice whispered, once many years ago as he fell asleep, _I wish you could’ve seen it._ He’d closed his eyes before she could continue, but Keith could hear her now. _If I’d only been more selfish_ , she’d said, her voice getting smaller. _We could’ve stayed._

Keith didn’t understand what that meant.

“A mirror,” Lance repeated, motioning for him to follow him to the bathroom. There was a white, old looking sink by the wall and above it-

Lance’s face was in the wall.

“I’ve heard of these,” Keith said to Lance in a hushed voice. It was in the history books he liked to read when he was little. He remembered the story of a man that made water stay still, but when he’d looked upon it gone mad and drowned himself in it. The prince hadn’t understood why he’d done that and went to his mother to look for answers. _Vanity,_ she’d said, pulling at his hair a little and laughing when his nose instinctively scrunched up, _the man could not bear looking at his own face because of how beautiful it was, he went rightfully mad_. When Keith had complained to her how silly that was, she just ran her fingers down his face, tracing his eyes and lips with her fingernails, making it itch and tickle at the same time. _If you could see yourself,_ _I think you would understand._ Her eyes had been so full of love, Keith had rolled his as she shook her head and kissed the end of his nose, smiling when he hissed playfully at her. 

But Keith knew that was just Krolia looking at her _son_ , and he couldn’t trust her judgment. In her eyes, he’d always been perfect. Well, except for when he’d end up fighting someone, and even then she’d always twist the story in his favor, even if it _was_ his own fault. He knew his skin was weirdly pale and that his features were… _off_ , somehow. Everyone had always whispered that, and he’d told his mother so. Of course, she said they were _‘_ just jealous _’_ but Keith had grown to be a little afraid of his face. He stepped into the bathroom anyways.

Oh _._ The mirror showed the prince of Daibazaal as he touched his face, his widening eyes reflected back at him. The only Galra part of his face was the purple coloring under his eye, even when he pushed his hair aside to look at his ears they were not long enough. And he’d thought Lance looked strange. He was…

“Yeah,” Lance breathed behind him.

“No wonder they hated me,” he laughed, and the Keith in the mirror laughed as well. Even if he didn’t like his face the nature of it looking back at him was so bizarre it had him transfixed, seeing his head tilt right and left without him willing it to.

“Yeah,” Lance huffed again behind him, sounding a little out of breath, but when he looked at his reflection the prince was surprised to see the Cuban blushing. Did he find him so repulsive that he’d made himself sick? Keith knew he was weird looking, but surely Lance couldn’t know just how ugly he-

And then Lance opened his mouth and stopped his heart.

“You’re almost too pretty,” he whispered and then immediately shut his mouth. Only when Keith turned to look at him did he finally realize how close they were, and his breathing stopped too when he saw Lance’s eyes again.

Keith had always loved red. It was the color of their people and most of his dressing, the color of his mother’s armor and the night. It was the color of his patron star, shining so brightly in the darkest night. But blue was so rare and enticing. It was so hard to find, and it didn’t fit right when the people wore it, too cold for their warm skin, standing out too much amongst the crowd. But Lance’s eyes looked perfect surrounded by it, like the feel of the ocean on Keith’s skin, like it was made just for him. The prince just wanted to see them closer and closer, leaning in, willing to drown in them just to see. There was dark around and gold within and-

Hands were pushing him out of the bathroom.

“Um. I have to- have to shower,” Lance stumbled over his words, but Keith couldn’t stop looking at him, blinking in a daze. What was he doing? “You just… uh… go do something,” and then he promptly closed the door in his face. Keith stood there for a while trying to breathe, his own fingers rising to his face in disbelief. He wanted to bang his head against the door for how impulsive he’d been but…

Pretty _._ Lance had called him _pretty_.

He tried to calm his now rapidly beating heart and willed himself to _breathe_. This was _not_ the time, no matter what the pounding called for. So he turned around and kneeled on the bed, closing his eyes and trying to pray. He needed to practice, but there was only one thought running through his mind, and it wasn’t the words he’s memorized in his mother’s calm voice.

_Lance called me pretty,_ it sung. _Pretty. Pretty. Pretty._

_Shut up,_ he tried to interrupt, trying to start his practice, but the chant wouldn’t budge.

_Pretty,_ it slurred back. _Lance thinks I’m pretty._

Quiznack. It was going to be a hard week to get through.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is finished, will be updating every day so subscribe if you want!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment if you liked or see any typos!


	10. Accents And Inappropriate Clothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Klance song of the day is "Es Por Ti" by Juanes. Just do yourself a favor and listen to it. Absolutely lovely.
> 
> Slight homophobia/biphobia near the beginning and non-con groping near the end (only just a bit). If you want to skip the homophobia skip the paragraph that starts with "Mercy please, he sent a silent prayer" and start reading again after "The problem arose when they entered the store". If you want to avoid the groping stop reading after "As soon as they entered the crowd outside, he could see the prince starting to become uncomfortable again..." 
> 
> Don't worry, Keith teaches him a lesson. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

They didn’t talk about what Keith heard on the radio or their little… ‘incident’ in the bathroom. The prince had looked so distressed about the news and so pleased about his inability to keep his mouth shut, Lance didn’t want to bring it up and screw how happy he looked now after a good night’s sleep as they wandered through the town. The Cuban had always been proud of the beauty his home held, the looks in the tourists faces as they gaped at the old and colorful buildings currently surrounding them never failing to brighten his day. Varadero was a hot town, and Lance’s eyes had always been prone to getting lost among the culture the foreigners brought. He didn’t love them, per se, they could be the most annoying pricks on Earth when they wanted to, but they could be so fascinating, Lance could hardly keep his eyes to the ground.

Last year he’d worked as a barman dabbling as a waiter on one of the fancy resorts, and he’d loved being able to appreciate the exotic accents in which they’d sometimes tell him their stories on up close and personal. ‘Fraternising with the guests’ a little _too_ often had been fun but it eventually ended in him running in his boxers from an hotel room while being chased by his _supposedly_ _single_ friend’s _wife_. And if there’s something more terrifying than a pissed off, rich white woman who just discovered his husband swings the opposite way to hers and _saw…’_ the game go down’ _,_ then Lance had yet to see it. The next day she’d thrown her silver cutlery at him when he’d made the mistake of not checking who was sitting at the table he was supposed to attend to, and the bitch had gotten him fired. Lance loved telling that story. Even if he wasn’t proud of getting kicked out of that world and the lecture it got him from his mama as his brothers and sisters laughed at him.

Since then it had been no secret Lance had… a _thing_ for foreigners.

So as they walked through the town, the Cuban was surprised too find it was hard to stare anywhere but at the prince as he watched Lance talking about whatever he’d been asked about, wished he was deaf for a second so he didn’t have to suffer through his lovely accent stumbling a little over the street names he tried reading out. It was a little exhausting having to deal with such a pretty face that up close without being able to flirt in fear of getting punched in the face, but it was even harder having to watch as Keith tied _his_ shirt high on his waist while complaining about the heat, rolling up the sleeves and unbuttoning almost every button on it like he’d seen on a woman while they headed to the clothes store. The worst part was that Keith had looked so pleased with himself as he did it, explaining to Lance how he wasn’t allowed to uncover so much skin on Daibazaal because it wasn’t ‘prince-like’ to do so.

“Also, it’s very cold there, so it makes sense. But it’s so _hot_ here,” his voice had continued as he strutted in front of him, a new spring to his step but his tone still a little serious. “Humans care so little about these things, and I must blend in, so I don’t think she’d mind”

Blend in, yeah _right_ . Only because Lance had been taking them through the less crowded parts of town. Keith was _Keith_ and people had _eyes_ , so he didn’t know how the prince would react to the inevitable staring they’d have to endure when they were forced to enter the crowded part of town where the store was. He was a little afraid, if he was honest. Keith was a very… girly looking boy and he was a royal and _acted_ like it, and this wasn’t the most liberal place on Earth.

 _Mercy please,_ he sent a silent prayer, _let them think he’s just a girl._ He really didn’t want to go through the name-calling he’d experienced some years ago when he’d come out. It had been hard getting to and from school, but now that he had graduated and was taking a gap year before college, he found that he didn’t have to go into town that much. Even after they’d gotten bored of it, the glaring and huffing and whispering never stopped and had become a part of his life, and it was still annoying and off-putting. He didn’t want to experience it again or have Keith have to go through it, not a single one because he didn’t deserve it. And Lance would have trouble not getting into a fight if anyone dared even _look_ at him the wrong way. Thankfully, nothing happened as they entered the store aside from some staring that made the prince become a little tense.

The problem arose when Keith started to pick out clothes.

“Uh, Keith,” Lance tapped his shoulder and the prince turned on him with wide eyes. He pointed to the clothes gathered in his arms. “Those are girls clothes”

“Girls clothes?” Keith mimicked him slowly and then he rolled his eyes, sighing in annoyance. “You have that here too?”

“You have gendered clothes in Daibazaal?” Lance was proud to have remembered that name.

“No,” Keith rolled his eyes as he started putting the clothes back. “But there _was_ in one planet I went to accompany my mother sign a contract on. The generals said they were _displeased_ with my ‘inappropriate’ clothes, but they sure didn’t look it until _after_ I introduced myself as the prince. The worst part was they had the audacity to call me filthy when they were practically salivating at the sight of some skin under a dress. Ridiculous”

“I mean- you _can_ wear it. If you really want to,” Lance suggested after watching Keith stare longingly at the clothes for a few seconds, taking a hanger with a red crop top and offering it to the prince to wipe that sad-puppy look off his face _immediately_. He tried not to imagine Keith in a dress, but seeing him in his ceremonial clothes was already too similar to it. Lance liked to believe telling Keith about how his family wouldn’t care at all was just trying to make him more comfortable and not his curiosity to see the prince in girl’s clothes.

God, he was a fucking pervert.

“It’s just you’ll probably call for even more attention than you already do with your perf- uh. With your hair,” of course Lance almost told him about how perfect his hair was after he’d fucked up and told him how pretty he looked the day before. Of course he did, but fuck him right?

“What’s wrong with my hair?” Keith asked as he accepted the shirt, taking some of the ones he’d dropped before but also some men’s shirts this time, a hand coming up to grip at some of the long strands unconsciously. It was adorable. FUCK.

“It’s very long,” Lance explained, trying to ignore the bells ringing in his ears at the way the prince’s _ginormous_ fucking eyes blinked so _fucking_ _cutely_ at him. “Usually women wear it that way”

“So stupid,” the prince muttered, but looked up at Lance’s hair with a studying look. “But that does look rather comfortable. I wouldn’t mind cutting it a little shorter”

With that Lance shooed Keith into the dressing rooms and waited for him to try on the clothes, taking the ones he wanted after a few minutes and paying at the register with the money his mother had given him. He’d only dared spare one glance and seen shorts that looked very woman-like, dread collecting in his stomach as he imagined Keith wearing them. Lance only sighed as they exited the store, accepting defeat, but he had a feeling Keith wasn’t staying long with him and that shooed any and all hormones back to where they came from. The source of that feeling was unknown to him, but he’d learnt to trust his instinct after his psychic grandmother had told him he had always been connected to the uncanny. It happened after he’d told her about the recurring dream he always had.

 _You are very sensitive to the forces in this world and the voices in the ground are wise,_ she’d said as she traced his hands, calming him down after he’d woken up with his heart racing, the same dream already having happened for over four years. _They led me to your grandfather and your mama to your father, may he rest in peace. They hold the secrets of the earth. You should listen to them._

It was hard, disturbing sometimes, but he’d learned to accept it.

As soon as they entered the crowd outside, he could see the prince starting to become uncomfortable again, walking behind him again and seemingly trying to hide behind his hair. It would be endearing if not for the feeling of eyes on them coming from everywhere, more intense than before. It was hard to ignore them this time, so he tried to hurry along, glancing back every now and then to make sure Keith was still following behind him when suddenly he heard an indignant gasp coming from him. When he turned to look at the prince, he saw his eyes were wide and angry, mouth slightly parted and cheeks turning a slight, thankfully almost unnoticeable purple.

They had been so lucky, and now something just _had_ to come ruin their day. Before he could ask Keith what was wrong, the prince had suddenly reached to grab something from behind him and was twisting around, bringing an _entire_ _man_ over his head and digging his knee onto his back as he twisted his wrist to be rewarded with a groan of pain from underneath him. It was the same move he’d pulled on Lance when he’d tried pinning him to the wall of his room but somehow even _more_ violent.

“Keith! What the-”

“The next time you decide to touch me without my consent,” the prince warned in a low voice, “I’ll cut your hand off”. The man started to nod erratically for the public that had stopped to watch, and Keith smiled deceivingly sweet, forcing the arm high on his back for a second before standing up swiftly, tossing his hair back like some movie star and continuing to walk like nothing had happened. The Cuban stood still from shock by the man still on the ground until Keith turned his head and nodded for him to hurry up.

Lance was so screwed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed Keith in girl's clothes, okay? I warned you this fic was going to be self-indulgent... Also fuck gendered clothing, it's just dumb.
> 
> The thing for accents...is very real. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> This story is finished, will be updating every day so subscribe if you want!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment if you liked or see any typos!


	11. Friendship, Strangership, Whatship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of angst ahead. It was inevitable, sorry. 
> 
> Warning for a panic attack. If you want to skip it stop reading after “You don’t have to worry about me, Lance..." Don't worry, he'll be fine! Lance takes care of him. Panic attacks are a bitch, though. It's hard to describe them, sorry if it's pretty vague, I just really didn't want to go there.
> 
> Anyways. Hope you enjoy!

After buying clothes and dining, Keith sat in the living room messing around with the radio again, trying to focus his mind on anything else than the turmoil within it. The thing was way too quiznacking old, and the crash hadn’t put it in his favor. It was supposed to be able to receive _and_ transmit, but the wire that supposedly attached to the microphone was broken and even a little burnt. Lance had provided an old walkie-talkie to replace the mechanism with it, and he had been attempting to wire it somehow to the radio but the technologies were way too different. And the heat wasn’t helping at all, the old fan above them barely turning. Keith couldn’t work like this, he couldn’t think and-

How could a person’s eyes feel so heavy on him? It was disconcerting.

“Lance,” he bit through his teeth. “I don’t have to see you to know you’re staring,” _again_ he didn’t have to say. The Cuban in question answered with just a disgruntled squeak somewhere behind him and a cough to supposedly cover it, walking a little with tripping steps. When he turned to look at him, Lance was plopping down on the side of the table opposite him, leaning over the radio with the flashlight he’d went to bring from the garage.

“Man, this thing is so weird. Pidge would go crazy if she could get her hands on this,” Lance had told him about his friends before. If he remembered correctly, Pidge was the ‘techy’ one, as Lance had fondly called her. And there was also Hunk, the mechanic who could also cook. They were both friends he’d made in a ‘space program’ he’d enrolled in some place called the USA, where _he_ was supposedly also from, according to their cover-up story. Keith had saved himself by using humor, but after that almost-incident Lance and him had gotten their story straight, which was when the Cuban mentioned them for ‘evidence that you were actually there’. They continued in a slightly frustrated silence for a while as they worked. And then Lance decided to ruin it.

“Hey Keith,” he started, sitting back on his heels and tapping his fingers on the table. He looked nervous, this couldn’t be good.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” _oh here we go,_ he thought as he leaned lower onto the radio, not wanting to participate in the conversation they were about to have. “On the radio… what did you hear? What happened? I… Is your mom-”

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” he struggled to say. He didn’t want to think about it, had thought that was very clear as he’d decidedly ignore the subject completely since it happened. All that mattered was fixing the radio, couldn’t Lance deduce that on his own? If he could only get the transmitter to work he could send a message out. He didn’t know what to say but it didn’t matter. Keith banged his fists on the sides of the radio when the wire he’d been trying to connect sizzled again, taking his frustration out on the wooden table. If he could only fix the quiznacking-

Hands grabbed at his wrists. He was about to protest when Lance pulled them gently onto the table, forcing his palms to lay flat on it. They were warm against his fingers, felt too nice to complain.

“Keith,” came his voice again, even softer, if that was even possible. When he dared to look up he was met with Lance’s blue eyes. He looked so sincere, so worried. The prince wanted to throw up. “I want to help you. But I can only do that if you tell me what’s going on. You can talk to me”

 _You can talk to me._ Keith had heard that before. Pulling in a breath, he remembered Shiro’s words. _The more brains there are the fastest you’ll come up with a solution,_ he’d said after their first training simulation. They’d been stranded on a lava planet and Keith had gotten them killed in it because he’d ignored Shiro all the way through. _You can’t be a lone wolf forever, you have to learn how to talk to people. You can talk to me._ But that had been a lecture. Lance wasn’t Shiro. He wasn’t his knight or his teacher or anything like it. Lance was kind without prompting. Was he Keith’s friend? Something about that word made him happy and sad at the same time. He didn’t know if it was because he’d never associated it with anything or because it felt inadequate, like it didn’t fit them quite right.

No. Lance had called him _pretty_ while _blushing,_ and he stared at him so much. Keith had a feeling that wasn’t what friends called each other. And not even friends. They were still practically strangers. He wasn’t sure that’s how strangers talked and acted around each other. It felt so familiar for such an unfamiliar situation, Keith didn’t know what to do about his stupid heart racing whenever he’d see his savior looking at him so intensely.

“Keith,” Lance whispered again. “You can _talk_ to me”

So Keith gave in. Slumping his shoulders, he told Lance about his planet’s history. About Sendak and Lotor and his mother. It took a while, but his savior never let go of his hands.

“What!?” the Cuban exclaimed when he was finished, sounding out of breath, hands pulling back to run through his hair as he sat back against the couch on the floor. “He only gave you _one_ _week?”_

Keith nodded. “If he doesn’t find me in that time… he’ll kill them Lance. I know he will. I have to contact him so-”

“Wait,” Lance interrupted him, looking at him like he was crazy. “You want to _tell_ him where you are?”

“It’s the only way to save them,” Keith said carefully. He had thought about it while he prayed the other day. It drove his rebellious side crazy considering giving up, and thinking about marrying Lotor and being forced to… it tied his stomach in knots like he’d never felt it do before. But it was the only solution he could come up with to save his mother and Shiro and there was no way he wouldn’t do it if he was able to.

“You can’t just put yourself on a silver platter for him!” Lance’s voice was getting higher and it had Keith bolting up. The Cuban followed him up, gesturing wildly with his hands. “Is that why you want to fix it? To give up?”

“You don’t understand!” he yelled back. “You don’t know Lotor. You don’t what he’ll do to them if he doesn’t find me. I won’t let my mother starve in a cell, Lance. I’d rather her live and be his… his…”

“I get it! I get it okay? I’d do anything for my mama too, but you’re damning yourself too early. You’re not even going to try and fight him?” Lance sounded so angry and distressed, it was starting to make him panic. Why couldn’t he just understand?

“Keith…,” his own name sounded so soft in his mouth. Lance said it with so much warmth and care, like it was something precious. He wanted to feel like that too. Why was this happening to him? The prince didn’t want to leave but he couldn’t stay. He didn’t want to be Lotor’s wife but he couldn’t just stand by. What could he do? He was trapped.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Lance,” he spat the name like it was garbage in his mouth, feeling horrible as soon as he saw Lance’s face fall. He didn’t want the Cuban to be angry at him, he didn’t want to be angry at him either. But he was leaving him no choice, making him get defensive. Keith couldn’t breathe. His body was burning all over, his vision blurring.

“I can- I can take care of myself...I have to...” He had to get the radio to work. He had to contact Lotor. Keith imagined himself in the white union robes standing beside Lotor, the half-breed’s hands on his arm as he pulled them to a bedroom. It made his stomach sink to imagine the door closing behind them, to imagine the golden ring in his hand, dooming him forever. He couldn’t breathe but he had to think. What if Lance was right? What if all that was left was to fight? What if he went back and the ex-prince decided he wouldn’t let his mother go? What if it was a trap? What if he went back and his mother was already dead? What if he couldn’t even get the radio to work and he heard of their deaths? That blood would be on his hands forever. If the radio didn’t work he couldn’t even _try_ to save them. There was a ringing in his ears, getting louder and louder-

“Keith?” suddenly Lance was by his side, holding him up. “Keith, you okay?”

“Don’t…” but he couldn’t bring himself to yell at him to get away. The hands in his arms felt heavy, but they were helping him stand, bringing him steady against the ground and down, down, down from his mind. Lance’s voice was slow in contrast to his speeding heart as he guided him through the house, letting him stumble step by step but not letting him fall, soft unlike the commotion in his mind. When he opened his eyes again he was being laid down on a bed and panicked. Had he already returned? Was the union already done? Was Lotor-

“Keith, you’re okay” Lance’s voice pushed through the haze. He could feel himself crushing his savior’s fingers as he kneeled on the mattress beside the bed. “Just breathe. You’re okay. You’re okay,” but he could feel his mind shutting down, unable to deal with the onslaught of emotions.

“You’re okay. I’m sorry,” Lance whispered somewhere to his right, but he was already disappearing. The presence remained, though. It reminded Keith of his mother laying beside him when he was sick. “I’m sorry, Keith”

 _I’m sorry too,_ he tried to tell her. _I don’t know what to do._ But before he realized it he was asleep.

The only thing that followed him into unconsciousness was the warmth of fingers pressing against his own.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry about them, they'll be just fine. Next chapter we get some insight into Keith's religion.
> 
> This story is finished, will be updating every day so subscribe if you want!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment if you liked or see any typos!


	12. Simple Questions And Difficult Answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally see what Lance has been dreaming of. Keith is...not subtle. And Lance is very In Love.
> 
> This is the first chapter I wrote for this story. It's basically what launched the whole thing so I'm very fond of it. It's one of my favorites along with chapter 9, so I hope you enjoy!
> 
> (It's funny because the next chapter is the last one I wrote and I don't really like it so. Irony I think)

_ There was no one else at the beach but Lance, but there was a woman’s voice in his head, whispering in a strange tongue. The waves were too big, and the sky devoid of light and clouds reigned above, swallowing the purple moon whole. The sand was filled with glass, cutting into his feet and he felt pain pain pain. There was a man standing by the shore with a knife in his hand, he was looking up at the sky. Lance looked too, and a red shooting star was falling down, crashing into the darkness below. Lance wanted to dive in after it but he couldn’t move. The man just stood there as the star drowned. He knew there was someone inside but he couldn’t move. He wanted to yell at the man to do something but he couldn’t open his mouth. Desperation crawled into his heart and squeezed tighter and tighter. He had to save them, it was the only thought in his mind. He fought with all of his strength but he couldn’t fucking move. There was another voice in his head, raspy and sweet. Help me, it whispered. It couldn’t breathe. Help me.  _ He _ couldn’t breathe. Help me help me Lance helpme helpmehelpmeLance hELPMEHELPM HELPME LANCEHELPME LAN- _ __  
  
He woke up in a cold sweat, Keith’s name stuck on his tongue. Why did he keep having that dream? He knew now what it meant, Keith was right beside-

The bed was empty. 

_ Fuck _ , Lance thought, still panicked from his nightmare,  _ where did he go? _ The clock blinked its neon green lights, 3:06 turning on seven AM at him. It was still dark outside but the stars were bright, he looked out his window as he threw a jacket on and almost jumped out of his skin at the dark shape standing in the sand outside. He ran all the way down to the shore.

“Keith,” he gasped as he approached. “What the fuck?”   
  
“I had a nightmare,”  _ well I did too, _ Lance wanted to say,  _ you don’t see me running outside because of a- _ but that wasn’t true, and Keith didn’t even turn to see him. He was shaking in the breeze, shoulders twitching and teeth clamped shut so they wouldn’t clatter.    
  
“I’m sorry,” Keith said softly. His voice was shaking too. “I got... startled when I woke up. Didn’t know where I was”   
  
Oh. The prince had gotten scared. And then he remembered their fight, Keith’s panic attack. Lance sighed, taking off his jacket and dumping it on his still twitching shoulders. “You almost gave me a heart attack”   
  
Keith jumped straight to business. 

“Lance,” he started softly, turning those violet pools to look at him for just a second before turning back but it was all Lance needed. His eyes were hard, set and determined. “I need you to understand,” his voice shook, but the intent was clear: he was doing it anyway.

Lance had time to think about it as Keith had fallen asleep. He’d been so scared when the prince had started hyperventilating, but he’d tried his best at making him as comfortable as he could, knowing from experience how disorienting thy could be. The prince still looked shaken, but at least he was conscious and had calmed a little since he knocked himself unconscious. As Lance watched him sleeping, he’d had made a decision. He didn’t like it, but Keith was right. He only had one objection to their current plan. 

“I’ll help you,” he stated, and Keith turned to stare at him again, his eyes wide and untrusting, this time stuck on his, like he couldn’t believe Lance was giving up so easily after they’d fought in the living room. “But if I can think of another solution, you  _ have _ to promise me to consider it,”  _ I won’t let you destroy your life, _ he wanted to add, _ I don’t want you to be in pain _ , but he had a feeling Keith wouldn’t like him telling him what to do, even if it came from a place of concern for his safety.

“Okay,” Keith nodded, plopping down onto the sand and laying down to look up at the sky, stress visibly filtering out of his shoulders as he slumped on the ground, completely boneless. “But I doubt you’ll think of anything”  
  
“God,” Lance sighed, laying down next to him. But before he could complain about how pessimistic Keith was, the prince was turning around to look at him with what Lance liked referring to as a perfect question mark: one of his perfect eyebrows arched up and his perfect lips slightly parted open.  
  
“God?” he sounded so unsure, his eyebrows now scrunching down in confusion. Ever since he arrived, Keith had been redefining expressions in Lance’s mind all by himself with his perfectly flawless face. He liked to believe it had something to do with how identity shines better through the foreign eye instead of how hopelessly obsessed he was with the prince. Keith was so collected all the time, seeing his face twist and turn was truly a spectacle.  
  
And God, was Keith _trying_ to look exotic? If Lance wasn’t so close to him, he’d think he was looking at Isabella, and that would explain his insane crush: his mind had just been confusing him into growing fond of the prince with his black locks and flawless skin and pink lips. But it couldn’t be, and Lance knew that was just a desperate reach for anything that could make more sense than what he knew was reality. Keith was even _prettier_ than her up close. His eyes were brighter and fuller with curiosity, violet pools of mystery that looked at him for answers to the million questions running around his mind. What’s this and who’s that? Why does it do this and how?   
  
Keith didn’t look like Isabela. Isabela could never melt his heart like Keith did.   
  
“Lance?” his head was tilted to the right, Lance must’ve spaced out. Keith was still looking at him expectantly. “What’s a God?”  
  
“You don’t have a God?” Keith shook his head no and a strand fell out of his already messy ponytail. It was still so long. Lance found it hard to ignore how the tips brushed his hips as he walked, how they framed his angelic features while he talked and ran through his fingers when he’d tie it up. It was becoming way too distracting, they would have to cut it soon, if only for Lance’s _sanity_. But Lance wouldn’t tell him that. He’d just say it looked too out of place (which it did), too _alien_. Ha. At least Keith had liked the idea of shorter hair, didn’t have some sort of weird custom related to it, or just didn’t care about it at all.  
  
“He’s like... I don’t know,” he turned back to the question, running it over his mind. How could you explain God? “He’s in your heart,” he continued uncertainly, touching his chest self-consciously. Keith was looking at him so intensely, it made him feel like a caged animal. The prince was studying him, plastering himself completely against the bars, fingers poking through the gaps and reaching towards him.   
  
“He created everything and... He’s the reason for everything too. And we pray to Him. Uh… do you know what praying is?” Keith nodded but he still looked confused. Confused and like someone had told him a joke so ridiculous he couldn’t help but pull a _face_.   
  
“Okay, you look like I just told you pigs can fly here,” but that just made him look even more confused. Keith’s lips parted for a second and something told Lance he was going to make a _hard_ _question_ , so he soldiered on, passing the mic to him to avoid looking like an idiot. “Who do _you_ pray to?”  
  
Keith’s face cleared completely, the harsh lines that had occupied his skin seconds ago softening into a slight smile. The question seemed to have soothed him, probably because of the familiarity of the answer after days of being surrounded by strangers. He looked at peace.   
  
“Not _who._ What,” Keith took Lance’s hand from where it lay on his chest and he tried hard not to flinch. The prince’s hands were still so cold, even with Cuba’s hot temperatures. Lance was thinking of a way to keep them from freezing still along with the rest of him, but for now he just pressed their palms together. He ignored the fast thumping of his heart, hoping Keith wouldn’t feel it beneath his skin, but he felt better when the prince turned his face away as a slight purple hue tinted his cheeks. It was one of the most endearing things about him. As strange as it looked, it made his eyes pop out more than they already did, made him look like a strangely colored pin-up just up and walked out of someone’s skin.   
  
Their fingers danced for a minute, and then his pale ones wriggled free and pointed to the sky.  
  
“My people and I, we pray to the stars” his eyes sparkled and his voice heavied with the foreign accent, determination painting his tone. He wanted Lance to understand his beliefs, so much that he didn’t care how he’d sound while he did. He was proud of them and it showed, and he wanted to share them with _him_ of all people. Lance felt honored (and maybe a little giddy). Keith wanted to tell _him_. He was his first choice and not some rebound. It didn’t matter if Keith know anyone else _but_ him and his family, he could’ve just refrained from telling him at all. But he _was_.  
  
Keith was everything Isabela could never be.  
  
And so Keith told him. He said that most Galra don’t claim to know exactly what birthed the universe and all its glory, but regardless of their faith, they all agree it was eons ago. He explained that they started keeping records less than one hundred thousand years ago, making it sound like it was so much time, oblivious that humans had started only five thousand years back. Their planet, like earth, had existed for so much longer, and its moons with it. Lance remembered Keith’s startled eyes when he’d looked at the sky the day he’d marvelled at the ocean. 

_ What happened to your other moon? _ Lance smiled at the memory.   
  
Keith's voice filled with wonder as he continued reciting his history. “Whatever is out there saw it breathe its first light, saw it walk its first round around our sun and flower into what it has become today. It watched and sent gifts when we progressed, washing us in its purple rains, and it struck us down from our podium when we tried standing above it, not realizing we barely reached the clouds until we were drowning in its beauty. They showed us the way across the lands when we were lost, and they remain still for us to name to this day. They’re even  _ here _ . Different, but still there”

Something told him the prince had always been fascinated by the stars. Something about the way his eyes shone and his lips twitched into a smile now and then, exhilarated to share but patient, trying to shine the best light on his beliefs he could muster. He wondered if Keith lay under the sky and shared his deepest thoughts with the far away lights, wondered about all the secrets the stars kept safe for him. Had he known someone out there shared his view? Had something in him guided him to earth as he sat scared to death in the pod? Why had something inside Lance known of his arrival? Is that why Lance liked the night sky so much? Why only he had seen the red shooting star?   
  
He whispered it all to Lance, his face closer than it was before but eyes still lost in the darkness above, unaware of the questions spiraling in his mind. Of the whispers that plagued his nightmares. The voice sounded too much like the prince’s, but it  _ couldn't _ be. Even with his grandmother’s words in his mind. It was too impossible.

As he drew to an end, there was a minute of just the sound of waves in the distance and the hum of their combined breaths. They were so close he could see Keith’s eyes tracing something in his cheeks, could only hold his breath as the prince grazed his fingertips across them.    
  
“The stars in your skin are so beautiful,” his voice became gentle, sounded like he was telling him a secret. “Back home, whoever has these is blessed by the heavens. They walk heavy with the jewels everyone gifts them. Like breathing constellations, people will kiss the very ground they walk on.”   
  
Lance didn’t know what to say to that.   
  
The prince was so close, and he only seemed to be getting closer. It made him feel lucky. To have found him. To breathe the same air as him. Lance had never felt more at home as he did so far away from his house, lying in the cold sand with only the sea as a witness to their intimacy. He wondered if Keith felt the same, if he could hear a voice inside his own mind telling him this wasn’t chance. Lance had the urge to tell him about his dream again, but that would just ruin the moment.

Maybe it was the early hour, or the calm swirling around into every crevice of his body, but Lance felt bold enough to ask: “Are you my blessing?”    
  
Keith’s fingers traced his lips as he smiled, closing his eyes as the sun rose above them.    
  
“Only the stars know”    
  
It felt like a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Otherwise titled: Keith Loving Stars Remastered Into Plot, Kind Of
> 
> What do you think Lance’s dream means? 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the kinda romance and kinda fluff because next chapter’s....plot. Very plot. As in, Plot™️.
> 
> This story is finished, will be updating every day so subscribe if you want!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment if you liked or see any typos!


	13. Hero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was literally the last chapter I wrote for this story. Didn't much like how it turned out but it was Necessary to the plot so. 
> 
> Have it.
> 
> (It's funny because the last chapter is the first one I wrote and I love it so. Irony I think)

When they woke up on the beach Lance had looked so flustered he seemed like he was about to combust into flames all by himself. Keith had opened his eyes against the burning sun above them, getting only a second to glimpse at him before Lance had noticed his eyes opening and untangled their limbs to stumble off, stuttering over some stupid excuse Keith didn’t understand a word of. But the prince could understand the embarrassment as memories from last night started resurfacing. Seriously, he was starting to think this infatuation was inevitable, and the way Lance was acting was nothing less than encouraging. Quiznack

 Shaking sand off and standing, Keith started to make his way up to the house. Now that he could think more clearly, he was starting to see Lance’s actions in a… different way. He couldn’t tell if it was hopeful thinking or something else, but Lance called him _pretty_ and held his hand and was so patient and kind and so, so beautiful. No one had ever treated him that way. He’d wanted to believe it was just friendship but it just didn’t feel like enough. Not when Lance looked at him without grimacing and listened so carefully as he explained his beliefs, not with the soft smile he’d seen on his face when Keith opened his eyes only minutes ago, not only looking at him but _seeing_ him, like his mother had always insisted a _lover_ should.

But he didn’t know what to do with that information, or with those feelings. It was the first time he’d felt like this for anyone, and it was nothing short of overwhelming. Keith thought it over through the day, the fact that tomorrow was Rosa’s birthday helping the matter as Lance along with most of his family were all bustling about buying food and cleaning the house. So Keith kept quiet during lunch, thinking. And as he ‘practiced’ after, finding out how useless it was trying and failing to think of anything _but_ Lance, he changed into one of the shirts he’d bought, sneaking out of the house completely unseen through the still working family as they pushed chairs around to make room for dancing in the backyard. 

The shirt was a little big on him, constantly slipping off his shoulders, but the long red sleeves were warm and perfect for the slight chill in the air as he walked to the shore. The beach looked almost lovelier in the evening, sun already so close to sinking down into the water. It was a spectacle to behold, the orange and red tones taking over the darkening skies in a wonderful work of art he never could have imagined. He wondered if Lance ever got bored of the sight. Keith had never looked at anything so wonderful in his planet’s landscapes, couldn’t believe the mirror-like effect the water produced, reflecting the changing colors in the sky.

Did his mother walk down the same shore so many years ago? Was that why his feet guided him so naturally? At this point, it wasn’t just Lance but everything about Earth that made him feel so _right_ , somehow. How could his heart be so full of love when he was so scared? So far away from his family? But even the threat was beginning to feel empty. Would his mother really let herself get captured? Would Shiro? The truth seemed so close to him, something in his chest telling him to search.

Without noticing, his body sat down, assuming the praying position by itself, so he did in hopes it would calm him. He tilted his head up and let the comfort of knowing the stars were still above calm his mind, a soothing, constant presence even when they didn’t yet shine through the evening sky. He told them all that had happened the night before, about his feelings and doubts, begged them for his family’s safety and asked for help in finding the truth.

 _Why do I feel so at home?_ he asked to the invisible starlight. _Why do I feel so lost?_  

“Keith?” a sudden voice startled him, getting him on his feet immediately, hand already pulling the knife out of its sheath. His eyes only take a few seconds to get used to the brightness, but when they do he can see the man clearly. It was the same man from the shack the other day, and something in his chest pulled at the sight. But it wasn’t fear. It was the same crazy sense of familiarity, messing up his rational mind. _This is the crazy man_ , he reminded himself, trying to knock some sense into himself.

“What do you want?” he gritted out, holding his knife tighter. But the man only looked at him, mouth hanging slightly open. The prince’s chest felt light, breath coming out quick and harsh against his straining lungs. When a minute passed and the man didn’t respond, the prince’s mind spun even faster, thoughts going out of control. _Who is he? Why is he here? How did he find me? Why am I here? Why did I come here? Who is he? Why doesn’t he look crazy? Why hasn’t he attacked me? Who is he? Who is he? Who-_

“What are you doing?” the man’s sudden movement pulled him out of his thoughts, survival instincts kicking in on their own. The man’s hand slowed, taking out something from behind his back, taking it back in front of him and showing it to Keith and-

What?

“Who did you steal that from?” he tried not to gasp, but his voice came out surprised anyway. He almost couldn’t believe his eyes. Why did the crazy man have a blade of Marmora?

A memory popped into his mind against his will, his mother’s voice sounding almost haunting amidst the turmoil in his head. He’d been confused and approached for her to answer his questions, and she’d picked him up even when she’d been talking to some general, asking him what was wrong immediately. _Mama, what are those?_ his fingers had pointed to the blade on the general’s belt, trying not to giggle as Krolia bounced him slightly in her arms _._ _Well,_ his mother had started, _those are our soldier’s blades. When a cub comes of age, it gets gifted to them by their parents._ Keith had frowned then, grabbing at his mother’s belt. _Why don’t you have one, mama?_  

The same frown pulled at his face in the present as he shook his head, trying to get rid of the memory, but her voice pushed through anyway. _Oh baby,_ she’d cooed. _That’s because I gave it to your-_

“Keith?” 

It was too impossible. 

“Who are you?” he whispered desperately, hands shaking around the grip on his own blade. The man didn’t answer, taking a step closer as if Keith’s wasn’t still pointing a knife at his chest. As if he didn’t notice the prince was starting to believe he’d lost his mind, not trusting the conclusion he’d reached even though all of the evidence was before his eyes, everything falling into place too quickly, leaving him shaking and tired underneath.

“I miss her,” the man says softly, hand rising up to Keith’s arm. “I… I thought I saw her the other day. Thought I’d finally gone mad but…” if he were in any other situation, the prince would’ve stabbed him immediately for even getting near him, but today wasn’t just an ordinary day. Everything felt too clear and nothing made sense.

“What happened?” Keith dared to ask. He knew, but he wanted to listen anyway. He needed to. So the man’s words kept coming, filling in the gaps in his mind.

“Her ship malfunctioned,” he started, but all Keith could hear was Krolia’s voice, dramatically retelling his favorite story.

 _My ship fell and fell and fell aaaaaall the way down into another planet!_ she gasped excitedly, hand going down in the same manner over his bed. _But he-_

“-saved her. She was hurt, so I helped her. Well as much as-

_-I wouldn’t let him help me. I was stronger than him! But he was kind. And the land was so far, was so wonderful and so strange. I was a little scared, but only a tiiiiiny bit. So he helped me, and he didn’t just look at me. He saw me. He was beautiful. So we-_

“-pulled the ship out. I helped fix it but it took so long. It took so long we-”

 _-spent so much time together. I was careful because he was a stranger. And what do we say to strangers?_ she’d laughed as Keith proudly shook his head. _We say no! Good cub! And we couldn’t even understand each other, but then time passed and passed, and as we fixed the ship, we started to learn about each other. A little more every day. Words weren’t needed, we were a great team! He was a mechanic and I a general, and we were the best of friends. And then more time passed…_

“I showed her the beach and I showed her the town. I taught her to swim and speak. Somewhere in between, we fell in love. And then- 

 _-you came! I was so excited too, and we loved you so much but…_ and then she’d get that sad look in her eyes, her smile a little smaller when Keith urged her to continue. _And then I found out home was in danger. The big bad king was making the people sad, and mommy was the general so…_

“We fought. And then she was gone. _You_ were gone,” a silence stretched between them as Keith took in all of the information. He couldn't believe- Krolia had _never_ lied to him. Not about Earth. Not about his- 

“Why does Lance call you the town crazy?” he asked instead, still not lowering the knife. 

“Because I thought I was,” Keith swallowed. “After you left I didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what was real… I tried to get help, to go after you or- or something. Anything. But everyone thought I was crazy. So much time passed that I started believing it myself. But I always had hope. That someday I’d know the truth, somehow”

Keith was silent as he processed the words. He couldn’t believe he’d thought about his father like that all of this time, spending so much time hating him, resenting him. And all this time he’d been down here, the hero his mother always claimed he was. No wonder she’d been so adamant about it, never letting him say a word against him, not even talking about him aside from telling him the story. _Their_ story.

“She gave this to me before she left,” he pulled the knife up again, tracing its edge, before clasping it to his belt again. “It was the only thing that kept me hopeful. I never thought I’d see her again. And then…”

“You saw me,” Keith mumbled, pulling his blade down and sheathing it with shaking fingers. The man- his _father_ raised his hands again, cradling his face gently between calloused hands. The prince was at a loss for words. This was too sudden, too weird. He never believed he’d meet his father and yet… 

“You look so much like her,” he smiled, pulling their foreheads together. “I always dreamed this day would come”

“Dad,” Keith dared to whisper, letting himself go and clinging to his father. And his father was holding him back. His _father_. They stood there for a few minutes as Keith whispered how he’d gotten to Earth. He told him about the news on the radio and how he was starting to doubt it but that there was no way to know. Told him about the plan and about Lance.

“Keith,” his father pushed him away slightly, still holding onto his arms. “You can’t-”

“There’s no other way,” he said back, trying not to get angry again like he’d gotten at Lance. “I can’t risk mom getting hurt. It’s the only way,” his father looked down for a moment, thinking it over and then looked back at him, eyes bright.

“I have an idea”

 

* * *

 

 

Keith ran back to the house, smiling the whole way even as his legs protested against the strain. He was so excited he tackled Lance into the grass when he spotted him walking about the backyard, taking some of the string of lights they had been setting up down with them. But the prince couldn’t care. He didn’t even remember why they’d been avoiding each other, laughing as his savior complained under him, lights flickering around them.

“Keith, what the hell-”

“I found your anything,” he said excitedly, smiling down at Lance even as the Cuban blushed.

“What are you even-,” and then realization set over his face. “You found a solution?” Keith nodded. “How? I mean- what is it?”

“You won’t believe the story I’m about to tell you,” Keith laughed again. 

“Tell me,” Lance insisted, apparently not caring they were still a heap in the middle of the backyard, not noticing his siblings looking from the living room inside not even trying to be subtle about it.

“Remember the crazy man?”

“Yeah?”

“He’s a mechanic”

“Okay? What does this have to do with-”

“Remember I told you that story that my mom used to tell me?” Lance nodded. “It’s real. My dad’s a mechanic,” and then he fell against Lance’s chest, not even caring about the crowd.

_“No hay ni una puta forma-”_

“He can fix the pod,” Keith said into Lance’s neck, not understanding what he’d just said but not caring anyway. “He’s done it before. We just have to get it out,” Lance was silent for a moment so Keith leaned back, worried the Cuban had fainted or he’d somehow suffocated him to death. But Lance was smiling through a blush, looking at him like he was the only person in the universe.

“What are we waiting for then?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> \- No hay ni una puta forma- - There's no fucking way-
> 
> Wow, such a 'plot twist'. I'm sure you guys saw this coming from a mile away but gasp anyway. 
> 
> Next chapter's very gay. As in. Very. Gay.
> 
> Also prepare to suffer. 
> 
> This story is finished, will be updating every day so subscribe if you want!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment if you liked or see any typos!


	14. Darling, So It Goes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing in Lance's perspective is very fun, remind me to do it more often. This chapter is very, very dramatic. This is also my favorite chapter along with 9 and 12. I am a dramatic being after all.
> 
> I'll say it once more if I have to: SELF-INDULGENT
> 
> Have the filthiest, most cliche and corniest thing you've ever read. 
> 
> Hope you enojoy!

The haircut was supposed to make Keith look less distracting.

It didn’t fucking work.

Lance regretted taking him as soon as he saw the finished product. Not because Keith looked slightly more normal now, or because the barber had given him something reminiscent to a _mullet_ of all things. No, it was because contrary to popular belief, it was actually possible for him to look _even prettier_ now that his hair was only slightly instead of completely in his face. The prince had been messing with it since they exited the barber's shop, asking Lance if he looked more human now, if Lance was _sure_ it suited him well, if it was _appropriate_ and wouldn’t look _too_ out of place with his mother’s friends.

 _No,_ he wanted to scream _, it’s not appropriate! You look too fucking exotic! It’s ridiculous! It shouldn’t be legal! It will disturb the peace in this town! No one will ever be the same after looking at your perfect fucking face!_

And yet.

“I can’t believe they gave you a mullet,” was all that came out of his mouth. Keith’s cute frown and _what’s that?_ with his tilted head, movement which was now followed by the slight brush of soft bangs against his cheeks, made it all _so_ much worse. If Lance didn’t control himself he’d end up pushing those strands behind his pointed ears and leave his fingers there forever. But he couldn’t do that at risk of them rising impossible questions, and thinking about it left him so frustrated and everything was all so _, so_ much worse than before.

But it was also better. Yesterday when the prince tackled him on the backyard, Lance hadn't known what to expect. And then Keith had animately told him about finding his father, apparently unaware he was sitting on Lance right there in front of anyone. Even if he had doubted Keith a little as he followed him back to the beach, he’d noticed the small similarities in them as soon as they’d stood side by side. He’d never really looked at the crazy man, but now that he did, they did have similar eyebrows, and their skin tone matched almost perfectly. And even without that, the missing pieces on Lance’s puzzle of a dream were starting to fall together, making a picture he couldn’t ignore as the man explained how he was going to fix the pod and get Keith home. It made sense, too much sense. The man with the knife… he’d always thought somewhere deep inside his mind that it could be him, and this was just confirmation. The red star was Keith, the man with the knife his father. So…

_A woman’s voice in his head, whispering in a strange tongue…_

Who was she?

He shivered slightly, shaking the thought off, attempting to concentrate on the matter at hand. It was his mother’s birthday and he had to focus on that instead of how gorgeous Keith looked. Ignoring his face worked during most of the evening, as he was busy setting up the final touches on the house and pushing chairs around and so. It worked almost perfectly until he remembered Veronica had decided it was so _cool_ to light fairy lights all over the backyard and put on his mother’s _very_ corny music collection and combine that all with _Keith_ , completely neglecting Lance’s forever romantic heart mixed with his inability to control himself.

Honestly, he didn’t know how he’d resist jumping Keith now that his face was illuminated by the warm tones as his eyes followed the line of lights while soft music played in the background. But he tried and succeeded most of the evening, welcoming guests and presenting Keith to some of them while they ‘subtly’ congratulated him. Worked until he left Keith sat all dainty on the wooden chairs assembled around their makeshift dance floor as Lance danced with his mama to the guests clapping. It was hard avoiding Keith’s eyes when he felt them trailing after him as he made his mama laugh with over-exaggerated moves and silly faces, hard to ignore the adorable little snort he made when Lance stuck a rose in his mouth and absolutely impossible to do so when the prince tried to hide a giggle behind his hand. Oh, and all of this combined with the fact Keith decided to wear his red flannel with a white _crop top_ underneath. And tight, ‘long’ _shorts_.

It was… hard. To say the least.

But somehow it worked. For a while anyway, because the Lord had no mercy on his soul and decided to sit his cousin _Marco_ next to Keith. And Lance knew nothing good could ever come out of Marco, who was so _very_ observant and had a very, _very_ loose mouth that couldn’t _help_ but spew every one of the secrets he’d ever kept and even some he didn’t even know he had. And if the way he was smirking at Keith was anything to go by, combined with his cousin’s eyes shifting slyly towards Lance, this was going somewhere bad fast if he didn’t do something about it. So he almost ran across the dance floor as the song started to end, quickly pulling Keith up on it with him and shooting a glare at Marco.

Because pulling _Keith_ on the _dance floor_ with him was a better idea.

_Marco, you sly asshole._

“What are you doing?” Keith laughed nervously, glancing around them as the song that was playing finally came to an end.

Lance didn’t even have to look around to know everyone was staring at them, he’d noticed the eyes on Keith ever since they’d stepped onto the house after their walk into town. He briefly wondered where his mama was, as he couldn’t see her from where they stood, but was interrupted by Keith gasping softly somewhere beneath him.

“I think I know this song,” his violet eyes were wide, looking excited as Frankie Valli started singing in the background.

“It’s a lovely song. My mom used to sing it to me,” he continued, because happy Keith was nostalgic Keith and Lance was _weak_. And then the prince started to sway to the light beat, head going with it easily. “We used to dance together when there was nothing to do. So much that I learned the words to it”

If Keith started singing Lance was going to pass out.

Thankfully he only did the next worst thing that could have happened and held his hands, positioning them on himself as the prince assumed the leading role and started guiding them around the room. The people dancing around them were all smiling, backing up to leave a small space in the center of the floor for them to move on. And move they did. Keith was shorter than him, but he was leading him like they’d been dance partners for a lifetime, twirling him away and close to him to the rhythm of the music, perfectly in sync with the old beat. Lance could only try and catch up to his lively jumping and turning, heart jumping uncontrollably with the prince because they were _dancing together_. He went by it in a daze, mostly because he couldn’t understand how this was his reality, and only realized the song was ending when Keith reduced his movement to only a light swaying again, head dropping to look at their feet, looking a little embarrassed.

All by himself, Keith had made three minutes feel like three seconds.

“I didn’t know you danced,” he forced his voice to stay level, Keith’s eyes flicking up to watch him for only a second before his eyes turned to the side.

“Yeah,” he laughed lightly. “I can’t believe I just did that in front of all these people. It wasn’t graceful or-”

“You were aiming for graceful?” he teased and Keith shot him a nasty look, making him pale for a second and then leaving them both laughing as the song completely stopped. Lance could hear his mama saying something about her being blessed and was about to stick his tongue out at her to shut her up when he heard the opening notes to the next song. He couldn’t decide if God absolutely loved or despised him. What was definite was that He had a  _wonderful_  sense of humor.

Of course it was Elvis.

“You heard this one too?” Lance tried not to sound out of breath as Keith shook his head. “It’s my mom’s favorite,” because it was, and Lance loved it like a sailor loved the sea, every single note and lyric engraved in his heart

Keith didn’t answer, only nodding his head and starting to sway again. He could almost hear his sister’s squealing in the background, but his focus was solely on the prince. Lance tried to ignore how the people who’d been dancing with them started to disappear in the background, heavy eyes settling on them again. Keith didn’t seem bothered by the staring, not until he suddenly stopped, shoulders tensing and his head shaking softly as he listened carefully to the lyrics.

_But I can’t help falling in love with you._

“I can’t, Lance,” he muttered as he started untangling his hands from Lance’s, the shaking in them showing how conflicted he felt. “I’ve already- It’s indecent and I don’t know the song and-”

_Shall I stay? Would it be a sin?_

“Please, Keith,” he reached for the prince’s hand. Keith was _not_ ditching him after he’d wooed him with _Valli_ , Lance refused to accept that. “It’s okay, I’ll lead this time,” he assured as he pulled Keith closer, placing his hand on the prince’s waist and trying to pretend the tiny gasp he caught didn’t make his knees weak. Lance didn’t care if Keith wouldn’t look at him every time the title was said, or if he wouldn’t let him close ever again after this. All he needed in that moment was for the prince to stay between his arms.

_If I can’t help falling in love with you._

_This is a bad idea,_ the voice in his head whispered everytime he twirled Keith as Elvis’s voice reached the higher notes in the chorus. _You can’t keep him,_ every time Keith came to rest on his arms again as if he belonged there, their eyes meeting over and over through the daze. It felt all too right to be bothered, like this moment had been set aside for too long until it had finally burst through the surface of their denial, forcing them to move along with it. And he embraced it fully, loving the way Keith’s cheeks colored and his breathing became heavy, feeling their hearts rushing every time they came together, creating their own harmony.

_Take my hand, take my whole life too. For I can’t help falling in love with you._

Lance couldn’t breathe when those eyes flicked down to his mouth, but he still twirled Keith through the chorus again, bodies gravitating even closer than before as they came together again and again. He only noticed his lips were moving after he’d dipped Keith low, the prince’s back arching beautifully and coming back only for his breath to fan over his own, making him realize he’d been mouthing the words, starting to whisper them lowly for only his partner to hear when they became one again, their bodies so close together he couldn’t tell when one of them begun and the other ended.

_Darling, so it goes. Some things are meant to be._

_I love you,_ Lance wanted to desperately tell him, but he was scared Keith would shut him out as they breathed together, the song becoming slower, it’s end delayed by their waltz, by the prince’s bare presence. As if he wouldn’t let it finish until he wished it so.

_Take my hand. Take my whole life too._

_I love you,_ Lance wanted to whisper, but he was scared Keith would shut him out if he heard the words. Even as they breathed in the same air.

_For I can’t help falling in love with you._

_I love you,_ as Keith’s hand fell so delicately on his neck as they slowly turned to the hushed tone of the bass, violet eyes so intensely stuck to his, the charmer to Lance’s serpent heart. When the prince’s arms wrapped around his neck and the song was close to its last line, Lance took his chance.

“ _For I... can’t... help_ ,” he breathed against Keith’s mouth as the instruments stopped and the whole world stopped with them. Keith was still looking at him with hooded eyes, lashes fluttering as he looked from his lips to his eyes and back again. There was a ringing in his ears and a weight in his chest as he got somehow closer, watching as the prince licked his lips, deciding it was now or never.

“ _Falling in love…_ ,” he whispered as Keith started closing his eyes, “ _with…_ ,” leaning closer and closer-

“Keith!” a man’s voice called from behind them and Keith’s eyes suddenly lost their glaze, head abruptly turning to look to the side, the most ferocious glare Lance had ever seen on his face. “Look,” the voice said again, sounding panicked. When Lance turned his head he saw it was Keith’s father, pointing up to the sky. He followed it up and up until-

“Fuck,” the prince said in his gorgeous accent, hands warm but firm as he grabbed Lance’s face, turning it and pulling it in until they were close again. “Lance,” Keith whispered, and for a second he could pretend they were still dancing. But Keith looked so anxious, cheeks devoid of color and eyes wide and afraid. Lance wanted to hold him and never let him go, but the music had stopped and this perfect dream with it. He almost wished he was asleep, at least then he’d know the glowing red star in the sky was Keith and not-

“Lotor,” Keith nodded. “He’s found me”

They were supposed to have more time.

“Not yet,” Lance said as he grabbed his hand, pulling him in the direction of the old shack where the pod was being fixed.

“You have to go,” he said as they pushed through the people, even if his heart was breaking. “He hasn’t found you yet,” he tried to assure the prince, but when he felt Keith squeezing his hand he knew their time was up. He knew the day he’d been dreading had finally come.

 _You’re never gonna see him again,_ the voice in his head said, _he’s as good as dead._

 _No,_ he hissed as they ran through the beach.

“We could’ve…” he heard Keith mumbling behind him. “Selfish. I get it now,” but he didn’t understand what that meant.

Lance just squeezed the prince’s hand and ran faster.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song they dance to first is Can't Take My Eyes Off You by Frankie Valli. Because I love that song. Ever seen 10 Things I hate About You?
> 
> Drama comes hand in hand with angst, doesn't it? I think? Even I got frustrated at myself, don't worry. They were soooooooo close! 
> 
> With this chapter we enter the final 5 chapters. Or as I like to call them: Everything Goes To Hell And I Love Every Second Of It: The Remix.
> 
> Look forward to... more drama.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> This story is finished, will be updating every day so subscribe if you want!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment if you liked or see any typos!


	15. A Lifetime To Miss You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one hurt me. 
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
> (Oh, italics is Galra language btw)

They danced and they almost kissed.

And then they had to run.

“Lance,” he called out as they neared the shack, realization settling in. “The pod’s not ready”

But the boy didn’t answer, just gripped his hand tighter and ran faster, to the point even Keith was beginning to fail at keeping up, stumbling a little on the sand. The prince could see Lotor’s ship coming closer and closer to the shore, seeming to chase after them. It was as if they were racing, each trying to reach some finish line that ended up with him losing no matter who won. Keith could either try and fly the escape pod or wait to be Lotor’s prisoner. But even if the pod worked, he had already put Lance and his family and the entirety of _Earth_ in danger by guiding Lotor here, so he couldn’t just leave. He had to think of something but he couldn’t even heart his own thoughts over Lance’s heavy breathing, over the sound of their footsteps as they pushed against the ground and the deafening blur of the ship getting closer and closer and-

“Lance!” he yelled as his hand was let go, Thace running past to help Lance pull the pod out of the shack. “Lance it won’t-”

“Shut up Keith!” Lance grit out through his teeth, pulling at the pod with all of his strength while his father pushed from the other side, slowly rolling it out onto the beach. “Just shut up! We’ll get you out of here!” But Lotor’s ship was getting bigger and bigger until it was landing just down the beach from them, the distinct whirring sound of the engines working in it loud on his ears as he backtracked to try and pull Lance’s hands from the pod, trying to get him to get him out from view. He couldn’t put the Cuban and his family in danger, he _wouldn’t_.

“L-Lance, you have to get out,” he stuttered out, trying to put some weight to his voice but it wouldn’t listen, words coming out airy and shaky. Afraid.

“No Keith, _you_ have to get out,” and Lance’s voice sounded so scared too, so different from only some minutes ago as he’d whispered a love song onto his lips. Keith wanted to go back to that moment and never escape it, play it on a loop until he was nothing but dust. Now all he could hear was his dad’s gun being loaded and Lance’s fast breathing as the prince held onto his shirt with all of his strength. It was so warm Keith could almost pretend the cold creeping into his heart wasn’t really there.

Lotor was coming down from the ship.

 _“Prince of Daibazaal!”_ his bitter voice called, taking a fake bow and smiling deceivingly at him. Galra sounded so vile when it came from his mouth, like a wailing cub when it fell sick. _“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, even if it is under such… abhorrent circumstances,”_ Keith could feel bile rising in his throat as the ex-prince walked towards him, looking behind him easily and back at him as guards poured out of the ship behind him.

 _“Lotor,”_ Keith snarled, the language a little unfamiliar but still firm on his tongue. He hoped the shake in his voice wasn’t as obvious as he raised his head up. _“Prince to no one. Your soldiers have no business storming in here. Tell them to retreat!”_

But Lotor just laughed lightly, shaking his head. _“Oh, prince. You and I both know your current position doesn’t allow for you to be making any threats. I have that which you most-”_

“Hey, walking L’oreal commercial!” Lance called out from behind him, but before Keith could push him back, his savior was already walking in front of him, holding him there with a hand on his waist. “Earth’s visiting hours are closed today and for the rest of _ever_ , so you should just go back the way you came from”

Keith could see the realization creeping into the ex-princes face as Lance spoke. This wasn’t good, no good at all. Lotor already had his mother and his best friend’s life to blackmail him with. Lance wasn’t supposed to even register on that list, but the stubborn boy was grabbing the pen and writing the name down himself with how he was acting. If the prince’s heart wasn’t beating so fast from fear then it would’ve been beating from the onslaught of love he felt as Lance tried to defend him from the towering threat that Lotor represented. He could see it in the way his back tensed that the Cuban wouldn’t back down so easily.

“English, then. I can do that. Who’s this, prince?” Lotor teased as he came closer, now only some long strides ahead. His white hair gleamed menacingly in the moonlight, so different from Lance’s soft brown locks. Keith imagined waking up to that hair so close to his face and felt his stomach turn. But what else could he do? _Think_ , he yelled at himself. _Think, think, think_. But when he blinked all he could see were white robes and chains, a muzzle on his mouth and Lotor’s hands all over his body. He was going to throw up.

“He’s just a boy,” he lied as he pushed Lance aside, putting himself as a shield between the breathing menace and the boy he loved, squeezing long fingers tightly when he felt some smartass comment rising from his savior’s mouth. “He’s been helping me. That’s it. Now tell me: is my mother safe?”

Lotor smirked. “I wouldn’t dare touch a hair on her beautiful head”

“And Shiro?” when Lotor didn’t answer he clarified. “My knight”

“Of course, my lovely,” the ex-prince bowed his head. “He’s quite protective of you. Both of them are actually. I tried to tell your mother I had you, trick her into submitting, but that treacherous knight had to interfere. He’s alive but he’s not in the best of shapes”

“You disgusting-”

“Ah ah, prince,” he stopped Keith as he started storming in a sudden rage towards Lotor, stopping when he revealed a long sword hid by his robes on his hip, swinging slightly with the movement of his legs.

“I’m sick of your games. What do you want from-”

“You _know_ what I want,” Lotor interrupted. _What?_ The prince had been ready to act surprised at the news of his family’s imprisonment, ready to negotiate their freedom, but Lotor seemed to know something he didn’t. One step ahead, like the vile creature he was, ready to strike only when he was sure it would hurt the most. “I know you’ve been listening to us for some time now,” _quiznack_. “That is how I tracked you down to this little, filthy planet. You know what I want and I’m going to get it one way or another”

_Think, think, think._

“Why should I?” Keith laughed, but it came out a bit strangled. “I could just get on this pod and fly back to Daibazaal, free my mother and knight and bring up the particle barrier. I can outfly you and you _know_ that. I outflew your soldiers when I escaped, and I’m ready to do it again if it means going back home. So, why _should_ I listen to you?”

But Lotor only had to take a look over his head to see why that plan would fail. The pawn he didn’t consider on this game where they pretended to be diplomatic with each other. Of course Lotor wouldn’t fall for his bluff. Not with the way Keith’s fingers were turning white on Lance’s arm as he stood silent behind him. Not with the way his body refused to stand down from its protective stance and his fangs slipped down. If Keith could’ve looked at himself in the mirror, he would bet even his eyes had turned a slight yellow. So many days surrounded by freedom and expression had dulled the already weak control over his body, and Lotor could read him like a book. He was playing around with the prince, just to make it hurt that last bit more.

Lotor stretched his hand and a gun was dropped in his hand. He made a show out of checking to see if it was charged and with the safety off before putting it on his cheek like a questioning finger.

“What’s his name?” Lotor teased as he pointed the gun at him. Keith tried to fight Lance as he was pulled behind him again, but the panic set deep in his bones wouldn’t let him. “He’s your mate, isn’t he? How pathetic, lusting after some inferior species when you could just come with me. I’m a half-breed too, you know? I’m sure you’d find me suitable for your damaged-”

“Try me, Lotion,” Lance threatened in an angry tone. “I’m not afraid to punch an old man,” Keith couldn’t watch as Lotor cocked the gun, so he turned to look at his father still holding the revolver in his hand. He had to _think_. He had to find a way to go with Lotor without getting Lance and his stubborn mouth killed. But what could he do? Lotor cared about nothing, he didn’t even care about him, he only wanted…oh. In a blind panic, he grabbed the gun from Thace and shoved Lance onto the sand in a rush of adrenaline, facing Lotor once again, only this time with a gun to his own head.

“Lusting over an inferior species, you say,” Keith smiled, could see the color drain from Lotor’s face. “Yet you lust for a simple throne. And how would you get it without murdering the planet’s population? You can’t, because they love my mother and they love _me_ . If you don’t marry me, then you’ll have to kill me, and no Galra on Daibazaal is cheering for a king who killed the only thing their dear liberator loves. If you want the throne you need _me_ ,”

“So if you want me,” Lotor was glaring at him, this wasn’t in his plan. But the prince was right. Keith closed his eyes for a moment and breathed in the sea and the breeze, felt the warmth and the soft moonlight behind his eyelids. When he turned, Lance was frozen in the sand, eyes widening in surprise, starting to shake his head to what he was about to say.

_I’m sorry Lance._

“No, Keith-”

“You’re not touching Lance,” he continued, the gun steady in his palm. _It’s the only way,_ he wanted to say, _I’m sorry,_ but he had to continue. Keith had to protect him. “You’re not even going to _look_ in this planet’s direction ever again. If you do, or anyone _else_ finds this planet, I _will_ know and I _will_ find a way to kill myself and end your reign. I figure the pain being your bride will bring me will be more than enough to drive me, so don’t you dare think I won’t do it out of spite alone”

“Keith,” Lance called again from his place in the sand, voice breaking. The prince didn’t want to listen to that beautiful voice cracking, didn’t want to look at the tears collecting in his eyes as they begged him silently to stay. Why did it have to be this way? “No, y-you can’t-”

“Very well,” Lotor nodded, putting the gun down and offering his hand. “I won’t touch him. And Earth will be safe from me and anything dare comes near it”

“No!” Lance choked out. Keith looked back only to see Thace restraining him, holding him down as he protested. “Don’t do this! Keith!”

“Then you can have me,” he took Lotor’s hand and walked with him to the ship, gun still clutched tightly in his other hand. As they boarded, Keith could see Lance standing and running after him, could see him pounding at the outside of the ship as the door closed between them. The prince remembered doing the same in the escape pod not that long ago, the grief he’d felt coming back ten fold for the tears he could see falling down Lance’s cheeks. He wanted nothing more than to fall back into Lance’s arms as he saw his own name being called by his saviors lips over and over again, nothing more than to be down on the beach with him, feet sinking into the sand.

 _I love you,_ he mouthed against the glass, hoping somehow his savior would hear. _I love you, I love you, I love you._

Keith watched him until he was but a speck in the ground, memorising the details of his face, and imagined his mother doing the same with his father so many years ago. Would he somehow learn to be away from him? Would he be able to move on somehow? Closing his eyes, he thought about seeing his mother again, and felt bad when it did so little to warm his withering heart.

 _“Get comfortable, prince,”_ Lotor chimed as he sat down across him. _“It’s a long way back”_

The prince had a lifetime ahead to miss Lance, and he couldn’t wait for them to be reunited as he slept, once more dancing to a song he understood perfectly even if he couldn’t remember a single word.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst is hard to read and write, but it must be doooooone. Sorry.
> 
> Next chapter.... more angst. And Krolia's story told by Thace. 
> 
> This story is finished, will be updating every day so subscribe if you want!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment if you liked or see any typos!


	16. Nineteen Years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now edited...
> 
> Enjoy!

The plan didn’t work. It was supposed to work, dammit. Keith’s father was supposed to finish fixing the pod just in time for the prince to leave and save his family. They were supposed to say goodbye and promise to see each other again somehow. But the plan didn’t fucking work. Their goodbyes had been completely silent and painful and angry. _Don’t go_ , Lance said by throwing his shoes at the ship taking away his heart instead of murmuring it sweetly to Keith as the sunset fell behind them. And Keith’s lips had mouthed words he wouldn’t have bared hearing out loud against the glass as he became smaller and smaller until he disappeared into the night sky.

Keith was gone.

What now? He didn’t want to feel sad anymore. What was he supposed to _do_?

“Why wasn’t it ready!?” he yelled at Keith’s dad, seeing him as nothing but a black spot through his tears.

“It was never going to work, Lance,” the man said calmly. “It took a _year_ to fix the pod last time. How do you think we had Keith? It’s been a _day_. What was I supposed-“

“You were supposed to fight!” he screamed as he tried shaking Thace’s shoulders, but he ended up just using them as support as his legs shook. “Why didn’t you fight for him!?”

“It would’ve gotten him killed, and you know it,” the man said harshly, hands coming up to hold Lance’s head steady.

“Why did you let him-?” he couldn’t _breathe_. God, he was falling apart. Blood rushed in his ears and he felt his chest being torn open. How was he supposed to _live?_ This felt wrong. It felt inhuman. “Why did I let him go?”

“Lance, listen to me,” Thace shook him slightly and Lance forced his eyes to lock on his. “Keith is going back to his mother. He’ll be safe-“

“No!” he insisted. How could the man say he’d be safe? “He’ll be forced into marriage with that- with that _monster!_ Am I supposed to be at peace with that!?”

“No,” Thace said firmly and a little sadly. “Of course not. But Keith is _strong_ , stronger than you’d think. He won’t live a day of his life the way he doesn’t want to. He’ll find a way. Do you hear me? He’ll find a way”

“How do you know?” Lance was starting to breathe a little slower, heart feeling lighter and head clearer. The man really was a calming presence, firm and strong. Was this what it was like having a father? Why did he have to be so unlucky? Why was the man here, when he should’ve been with his wife and son? Why wasn’t _Keith_ here? Lance didn’t care for his kingdom, he’d let it burn if it meant the prince stayed by his side. And he’d looked so happy here, laughing with his mother and cooking with his sister, splashing in the sea and dancing in the fairy lights, warm in his arms. Keith had said himself that he’d never felt like he belonged in Daibazaal, felt like he belonged somewhere out with the stars. And he’d reached them. Reached Lance.

Same height, same skin, same nature. All like a human would. Lance couldn’t imagine him sitting in a throne, serious as a crown was placed in his head while surrounded by strangers. In his eyes, Keith would always have the spirit of a rebel prince, sneaking out and seeing the world, learning about anything and everything. On Earth, Keith became what he could never be back home. He belonged _here_ , next to him in a boat sailing nowhere, as they caught a plane to the farthest place it would fly. Next to him as they sank in the sea, happy to do nothing but float in the cerulean water.

So why was he gone?

“I know,” Thace started, voice steady but still sad. “Because Keith is his mother’s son. That woman left me here to protect me, just like he’s done to protect _you_. Don’t waste that chance, that love. You can’t spend the rest of your life obsessing over him, driving yourself mad. Not like I did”

They were both silent, mulling over the words exchanged, over what had happened when it suddenly started to rain. After a few minutes of standing in the cold getting drenched, the man asked him to help him put the pod back inside the shack. The work busied his mind, stopping it for a minute to just concentrate on moving the heavy metal back, feeling the biting cold on his skin as his clothes stuck to it. When they were done they sat against it, watching the rain fall on the ocean before them, tiny waves crashing against the sand.

“What happened to Krolia?” Lance asked after a while. Keith didn’t tell him what he and his father had talked about in the beach two nights ago, only that he was the man in his mother’s stories, stories which he’d listened to in a daze back when what felt like so long ago but was only a few days. He could only remember some details, that it wasn’t supposed to be real and the excitement on the prince’s face, similar to the one he’d had yesterday as he’d tackled Lance to the grass. _A mechanic,_ he’d smirked. _My dad’s a mechanic!_. The words had made him realize how little time they had left, how little time had really passed. It made it all seem so much more sudden and real, but he’d still smiled in return, determined to help.

“Krolia was a general in the Galra army,” the man began easily. “One day she went to help one of her injured comrades a long way from her system, but when she got there ended up knocking herself out while trying to pass an asteroid belt. The pod, when damaged, was programmed to find a planet with a suitable atmosphere to land on, as the machine would need to be fixed and it would take time. But the system she was on was far from anything the Galra had ever known, and so it set sail here, to Earth. I was having a run by the beach when I saw what I thought was a meteor or something falling, but when I went to see there was only a weird ship with a broken window, and through it an unconscious woman with purple skin. I carried her out and into this shack, which used to be a place for me to work on my projects, and nursed her back to health,” Thace laughed then, running a hand down his face. “As if she needed any nursing”

“The rest is obvious. We fixed it together, took so long we fell in love somewhere in between the days. And then Keith came along. She wanted to name him Yorak, can you believe? Anyways. When the ship was done, the radio turned on, and with it came the news that her planet was being destroyed. She couldn’t stand by and watch as it died, so she made a choice. We fought. I didn’t want her to take him. But she convinced me and so she left. I didn’t see her after that. I went crazy, trying to get help, but no-one would listen. I even started thinking I had imagined it all, as everyone said I did. I became the town crazy as you know. And decided that I was never going to know anyway, so I just waited. I stopped making a fuss and waited for the answer to come,” Kogane turned to look at him, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I waited for nineteen years until I saw her walking down the beach with you the other day, a carbon copy except for the color of her skin, thinking I’d finally gone completely mad. That I’d seen this woman and thought up this story so many years ago. But then I saw her again, two nights ago, kneeling on the sand as she prayed like she used to some days, eyes closed and head tilted to the sky, to the stars. And when she opened her eyes and spoke I figured it was something I never expected. It was my son. I hadn’t imagined him. I thought I had, with how little I’d gotten to hold him when he was born. But when I held him and listened to his cries I knew it had been real all along”

Lance remembered how he’d looked at the newspaper for so long, wondering if the man’s story could be true, how he’d always felt such a connection to him. The night the red star fell, he  _knew_ he’d seen it before, that he couldn’t have made it up. He thought about his grandmother talking about how he should listen to the voices in his head, that they knew things beyond this realm, remembered his mother accepting to take Keith in immediately as soon as she’d seen him, how everything felt so right when he was there, like the prince was a key they didn’t know they had been missing. Lance _knew_ he was right. Keith had gone through something so similar to what had happened to his mother, and he had looked so familiar to Lance, so right by his side.

Keith belonged on Earth. He was never meant to leave.

So why was he gone?

Lance told Thace about his dream, about his psychic history. He told him what Keith had felt like when he was ‘home’, how excluded from everything he’d been. Lance was about to tell him how they’d danced together so perfectly when the man held his arm, looking up to the sky.

“What’s wrong?”

“Look.”

When Lance looked up, he smiled.

 _I knew it,_ he thought. _I knew it, I knew it, I-_

“Lance,” Thace breathed out, clutching his arm tighter. And then he felt himself pale, heart stopping at the sight. “It’s not slowing down”

_Keith._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet ya didn’t see THAT one coming haha.... nah it was obvious. 
> 
> Next chapter things REALLY go down.
> 
> This story is finished, will be updating every day so subscribe if you want!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment if you liked or see any typos!


	17. Hello And Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No longer italics here cause they're all talking in the same language (and I'm lazy as all shit).
> 
> I love writing formal speech? It's soothing somehow.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Keith refused to cry.

Even as he was forced to change into the suit appropriate for flying in space, his heart was falling to pieces, eyes burning with unshed tears as he pulled on the helmet but still stubbornly refusing to show Lotor his sadness. This was what he’d chosen to do. He had to be strong, if only for his dignity. The prince wanted nothing more than to fight, get on the controls somehow and go back or make the ship self-destruct or maybe pull on the emergency exit lever he could see on the other side of the door beside them and just float out into space. But he couldn’t risk dying right now. Krolia and Shiro and Lance would have no reason to be left alone if he was gone, and Lotor would want to take revenge on them for his selfish acts. So he sat still, eyes closed and hands crossed, even if he wanted nothing more than to lie down and cry until he could feel nothing but devoid, alone like he’d been before. 

“Don’t worry prince,” Lotor’s voice continued as they passed the ozone layer, stretching towards the moon and setting course for Daibazaal. “When you’re by my side, no whim of yours will go unanswered. You will be drenched in nothing but the finest of silks and jewels, become the star you’ve always been to the people”

“I care not for the riches you’ll bring me,” Keith hissed out, clenching his hands over each other, feeling his nails dig into his skin. “I will never smile, not while I wear your ring and not while I can remember your face. Not until I’m well and dead after ascension, resting at last from your torment”

“Your words are vicious and rude,” Lotor smiled, but his tone turned sour. “Talk to me like that again and I will not fear teaching you some manners, maybe beat my name out of your memories. The druids have all kind of new-”

“You should start at once,” Keith huffed nonchalantly, even as his insides twisted a little in fear. He knew Lotor wouldn’t kill him, not as long as he didn’t have the throne and had somehow gained the trust of his people, and the prince knew he wouldn’t hurt his family in fear of him pulling a knife or poison to his throat. But he still didn’t want to risk it.

“I fear you won’t be satisfied by my silence,” he finished, opening his eyes to see Lotor standing up and angrily stomping towards him. But no injury could cause him more pain than the heartbreak he’d experienced flying away from Earth’s atmosphere, getting colder as they went higher, farther away from what had been his home, where the people around him had been nothing but kind to him. Whatever Lotor wanted to do, he only hoped it would be quick, as he didn’t even want to spend a tick more having to listen to the vile snake’s breathing, not even feel his presence near him. But as the ex-prince approached him, static burst through the ship, a distinct voice calling through the speakers. 

What?

“Keith,” the familiar voice of Krolia made him open his eyes, and he saw as Lotor froze in front of him, eyes twitching a bit as the voice continued. “He’s lying,” and that was all he had to say as the ship exploded into sound. Lotor yelled for it to be turned off. 

“Keith,” she called again as Lotor stormed away from him to the main controllers, all soldiers fumbling around as they tried to locate the source of the audio feed except one, who was walking briskly towards him. Keith startled, expecting to be restrained, but the soldier only raised his fist, a familiar chain hanging down from between his fingers. Rage filled his body through the surprise, and he was about to demand to know where the soldier had gotten the chain from when there was suddenly a flash of light and he was being thrown to the floor as the ship jerked forward. And as she continued speaking he smiled.

“I’ll catch you”

Keith felt a new found fire inside as he stood up, remembering his mother’s words from so many years ago. He remembered her saying that as he was bodily pulled through the door beside him by the soldier, the whole ship exploding into red flashing lights and a deafening alarm. When he blinked a sensation ran through him, the same adrenaline he’d experienced when he’d been pushed onto the pod all those days ago. The soldier turned to look at him as the door locked behind them, darkened glass clearing to reveal-

“Shiro!” he gasped as his knight strode forward, meeting Keith halfway and pulling him in to rest their foreheads together, only now it was a hello, not a desperate goodbye. 

“You’re alive,” the knight sighed, closing his eyes for a moment in visual stress. 

“Of course I’m alive,” Keith half laughed, half complained. 

“Of course you are,” Shiro laughed back, pushing him away to search him for any injuries, one of his fingers brushing where he’d burned the skin by pulling on the collar currently around his hand so many days ago, frowning at the slight mark that still remained. 

“It’s nothing,” Keith assured, pushing the hands away, not wanting to worry the knight anymore than he already had. 

“I’m sorry anyway,” Shiro said as he let him go finally, but not without a final squeeze of his arms, turning again to face the door as bullets started knocking against it. “We have to move,” he smirked as he saw the absolute anger on the ex-prince’s face through the tiny window, fist pounding against it. 

_ I’ll catch you, _ he remembered his mom calling out as Shiro started working on the door. Words whispered to him when Krolia had pulled the space suit on him so many years ago, explaining that it was a necessary lesson for his safety in case they had to escape the castle or he was taken into space.  _ But don’t worry, _ she’d cooed as she pulled the zipper up,  _ you’ll just be that much closer to the stars!  _ That had been enough to calm him for about an hour as they’d exited the atmosphere, just until he saw the queen jumping off the ship easily, twirling a bit with her propeller. It was the first time he would be experiencing zero-gravity, and his anxiety had risen again as he held tightly to the open ramp of the ship, his mother floating still below him, face level to his and hand stretched out. 

_ I’ll catch you, _ she’d reassured as he let one hand go. When Keith had heard her saying that through the comms, his body had started bracing itself for it, her instructions an echo of the last encouragement she’d given him that day before he let go of the ramp, learning his favorite sensation. He held onto Shiro tightly, bracing himself as he heard the bullets start to ricochet all around them, only one word on his mind to reassure himself as the emergency exit burst open.

_ Jump. _

The vacuum of space pulled them out so fast he got dizzy, spinning with the sudden change for what must only have been a short few seconds but felt like hours. Floating on space was fun and relaxing and soothing, the still quiet the only perfect background music for his meditation. But spinning was different, and his vision blurred on the seconds it took for them to stop. When they did, his head was still twisting and his stomach felt a little sick and he could feel his knights arms tightening on him, see a blur slowly turning red. As his vision cleared he noticed it was Lotor’s purple ship starting to burn, still shooting and being shot at by a blue ship that was approaching them carefully somewhere to his right. 

Closing his eyes as it came closer, he stayed as still as the air shifted around them. The back of his eyelids turned from black to pink, and then he was hearing the closing of a door, feeling gravity starting to pull them down again. They landed heavily, Keith hearing Shiro’s breath knocked out as he landed hard on top of him. As he stood to let the knight breathe he stumbled, dizziness not yet cleared out. But before he could fall arms were wrapping around him, steady and strong.

“You’re okay,” Krolia muttered into his ear. It had been so long since he’d heard her voice, the sound making his eyes water again. “We’re okay,” she rubbed his back as he leaned on her, holding onto her arms like she would suddenly disappear into thin air.

“Mom,” he almost cried into her shoulder, wrapping his own arms around her as they breathed together. “I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have gotten on that ship if I knew you’d escaped. I-I thought you were in a cell, and I didn’t even know for sure. I even thought he’d killed you, I-”

“I know,” she cut him, could feel her humming, something she’d done for him as a cub when he was scared. “But we’re okay. They got us for a few days but then we escaped. I’m sorry it took so long. We had to find a ship that would get us here, but it took so long… we ended up having to hide as we followed Lotor,” and then she was pushing him away, hands cradling his face, checking for injuries just as Shiro had done before. 

“Earth,” he laughed a little, still breathing hard between her hands. 

Krolia laughed with him, nodding to herself as if deeming him healthy enough. “I know. It’s… ,” and then her face fell, eyes getting sad. “It’s still beautiful, isn’t it?”

“It’s so much more than your stories said,” he nodded, eyes widening when he remembered. “Mom, I found-” but the ship shook again, cutting him off.

“Krolia!” Shiro’s voice shouted from beside them as he scrambled up. “We have to move!” They quickly parted, following the knight to the main cabin as he sat down in front of the console 

“What’s the situation?” Krolia asked as she leaned over his shoulder, looking at the blinking controls. 

“Not good,” the knight murmured back as he fiddled with the controllers, checking the damages on the ship. “I’m afraid the fire our pod has taken wasn’t light at all, I think we’ll need to make a stop and work on repairs”

“Looks like we’ll have to make a short stop on Earth,” his mother sighed happily, turning to look at him, gauging his reaction. He imagined the look on his face was enough for her to start giving directions to Shiro, telling him how and where to land. The prince couldn’t believe it. He’d been saved by the two people he’d been imprisoned to protect, and was now returning to the planet he never wanted to leave. Keith was definitely the luckiest person in the universe.

But that didn’t last long.

As he started buckling up to make the tedious descent, the ship suddenly jerked roughly, alarms starting to sound and the distinct whistling of a hole in the metal started to fill the tension between them. They didn’t even have time to react as another shot made impact, this time causing a small explosion on the back of the ship. When Keith looked to the glass, he could see Lotor’s ship wasn’t yet immobile, firing on them with what he assumed was the last ammo they had left. But he couldn’t even think too long on that, as the ship started groaning and tilting, engines stuttering when they shouldn’t have.

“Mom?” he called warily. It didn’t sound good. How could he have celebrated so early? Of course something like this had to happen.

“Hang on tight, Keith,” Shiro ordered strictly. “The ship’s not responding anymore. And she’s not stopping by herself”

As the ship started gaining speed, Krolia spoke up from her seat beside him. “Not to worry, Shiro. Just try steering her towards the sea. We’ve made this fall before, haven’t we?” They had, but something told Keith this one was going to be different. Especially because there was a ship coming down with them. The prince sent out one last prayer to the stars before holding on to the belts.  _ Just keep them safe, _ he begged.  _ Don’t worry about me.  _ Keith knew he’d spent all of his wishes. At least he’d gotten to see his family again. But...

_ I want to see him again,  _ he pleaded as a final wish _. Please. If only one last time. _

And then Keith held his breath as he started to fall once again.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're safe! Yay! 
> 
> (Not for long though. Oops)
> 
> Next chapter is the final chapter! Don't know if I'll leave it or do a small epilogue, probably the latter though. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> This story is finished, will be updating every day so subscribe if you want!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment if you liked or see any typos!


	18. Blue Star Red Star

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhh last chapter! This was my first fanfic, and has been very exciting to write!
> 
> Thank you all for reading and leaving comments and kudos! They've made me really really happy!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Lance could believe it. He’d seen it so many times, went over the motions of waking up to panic to the same scene, all so often that all he could do was watch it play out. So many days ago he’d stood in the same place, looking up and wondering if he’d gotten so close to the mad-man he’d lost his mind somewhere in the way, a dream bordering to bleed into his mind and deeming itself reality. And now he stood by the same man who now had a name, even closer still, and he felt numb to the bone, hoping against hope but knowing this was the moment he’d been waiting for. 

For a second he wondered if this was punishment because Keith wasn’t meant to go, but he quickly discarded the thought. This felt right, in a twisted way. There was no part to his dream left unanswered. Only one: the woman’s voice. And he knew he’d figure it out soon enough.

It was all so very the same. Like watching a movie through 3D glasses only to figure out by the end you’d never put them on. Only now the star was blue, and unlike the first time it fell, he wanted it to come meet him.  _ Selfish _ , he thought, even as he smiled up through the rain. And then the star was turning blue and then red and red and red, burning red. A red that consumed every other color in his vision, a speck growing bigger and bigger, making him feel smaller by the second. The man was still with him, and though there was no knife in his hands, its presence was sharp between them. Pain was still clutching at his senses, jagged as glass but invisible, pulsating beneath his skin. Heartbreak. It was red and he was blue and he was red and he was blue.

Lance watched the star fall for the second time.

When it breached the water there was a quick, purple halo in the sky and Lance could hear the woman’s voice in his head. Now he recognized it as the tongue Keith had spoken in the first time he’d woken up, the one coming from the radio that day, the one falling from Lotor’s mouth as he’d taken the prince away. But it was a woman’s voice, distinct and calm. When he tried to clench his hand, it did, filling him with a new sense of security. As Lance ditched his shirt and shoes, he turned to look at Thace.

“There’s a woman,” the fact was clear in his voice, revealing itself to him only as he spoke it into existence. “I can’t get them both out”

So they went after the sinking ship, against the rain and the small but fierce waves, against the current and against all faith and common sense. It had fallen some way farther than the last time, but they reached it with barely any difficulty. When Lance dived he was held by the water like he’d been so many times before, letting himself sink all the way to the still blinking lights of the ship. He got in by kicking at a burnt looking plate, the metal giving easily under his persistent kicking and revealing the interior of the ship and in it a woman.  _ The _ woman. Upon first glance, the Cuban immediately recognized her as Keith’s mother. Thace hadn’t been kidding, the prince did look like a carbon copy of his mother, her face set in a concentrated frown as she tried to cut the prince’s belt, but he could see the expression turning into panic by the second, moves getting more frantic and movement turning sluggish. When he looked closer he noticed Keith’s eyes were blinking slowly. 

The prince was falling asleep.

Lance dived into the ship with Thace close on his heels. The man immediately passed him to reach for the wo- Krolia, tugging at her waist to get her to the surface. She struggled, but as Lance pulled the knife out of Thace’s belt she stopped, locking eyes with him. Krolia’s eyes were intense and dark even through the haze of the water, he could read the command in them easily:  _ Get him out _ . Lance nodded a promise, and then he watched them swim through the hole again. The words pulsed to the front of his mind through the fear in his heart when he saw Keith’s eyes blinking up at him, a small smile on his lips as his chest started heaving. But he didn’t allow himself to panic even as they shut closed, repeating the mantra like a prayer as he tried to cut through the belt, pulling at it with all of his strength.

_ Get him out, get him out, get him out, get him out.  _

But it wouldn’t give. No matter how hard he pulled it wouldn’t fucking give and he was starting to feel tired, the water heavy and overwhelming around him. He started hacking at the belt desperately, trying to cut it at the base but it  _ wouldn’t fucking break _ . And then he couldn’t move. He wanted to save Keith, had to get him out but he couldn't  _ move _ … Couldn’t  _ breathe… _

_ I’m sorry, _ he thought, and then everything went black.   
  


 

* * *

 

 

The impact of his body being dumped on the sand woke him up. He sat up and coughed a little water, blinking his eyes open against the haze that had knocked him out, pulling in as much air as he could even if it stung at first. As he calmed down, there was the sound of waves and he could tell it was no longer raining but something felt… off. When he turned his head, the world spun with him, and when the picture cleared he saw a man’s body leaning over something. No, some _ one _ . Krolia and Thace were leaning on each other by- by  _ Keith’s _ body. Noone was speaking and-

No.

“Keith,” he called as he crawled over, voice rough from the the water he’d swallowed and coughed back out. The prince was lying limp in the sand, head lolling slightly as the man he now recognized as Shiro did compressions over his heart. He kneeled on the other side of the prince’s body, dread feeling him when he saw the panic in the knight’s face. Lance’s shaking fingers looked for a pulse on his wrist and neck, for breath from his lips. Anything. Anything that indicated he was still alive. But there was nothing.

Keith wasn’t breathing.

The fact settled over his heart, spreading along his chest and making him feel cold inside. Making him feel dead.

“No you don’t,” he muttered harshly, hands scrambling to tilt his head up, trying to make way for air to flow into the Keith’s lungs. He was  _ not _ dead. The prince had  _ not _ come back just to  _ die _ in his arms, he refused to accept it. He could hear Krolia’s slow breathing and Thace’s arms tightening around her as Shiro tried to bring their son back to life.  _ Surrounded by the people he loves most _ , the voice in his head whispered,  _ such a beautiful way to go.  _ Keith’s hair was a halo around his head, face completely relaxed while the stars shone in the now clear sky. He looked completely at peace. 

“Keith?” his own voice called, small and desperate. But there was no answer. “Breathe,” he pleaded, voice as desperate as all of them felt. “Please. Just- Just breathe”

But Keith wasn’t waking up. And Shiro’s hands were slowing down.

“No!” he was starting to feel out of breath himself,, Krolia’s tears driving him insane. “You can’t stop! He’s not breathing yet!”

“Lance,” Thace’s hand was on his shoulder, holding him still as Shiro’s hands stopped completely. 

“He’s not dead,” Lance choked through his tears, shaking his head, not sure if he was reassuring Krolia or Thace or Keith or himself. When had he started crying? “Why did you stop!? He’s not-”

“Lance,” Thace’s voice was as firm as his hand, trying to pull him away from… from the- No. Lance refused to give up. He couldn’t just stand there and do nothing. How were they so calm? “Lance, please. He doesn’t have-”

“No,” he shoved the hand off. Keith wasn’t dead, he just had to open his eyes, just had to  _ breathe _ . He remembered running beside him, fleeing from the man they didn’t yet know was Keith’s father, smiling and laughing as they went down the beach. What would become of that memory if Keith died on the very place he’d been so happy on? What would become of  _ him _ ?

Lance dropped his head on Keith’s chest, trying to hear his heart and hold him at the same time.

“Please,” he begged. “Don’t leave me… Please,” there was a moment of silence and then Lance raised his head, looking at his love’s face. If he would ever say it, it had to be now. Keith had to know. Even if he was already gone, Lance had to say it, at least to his…

“Keith,” he whispered, one hand cradling his face. “I love-”

A sudden intake of breath cut him off. Lance stopped as he realized it was Keith’s mouth that had made the sound, body jerking under his hands. Instinct drove him to pull the prince up as he coughed all of the sea water out, nails digging into Lance’s shoulder and neck and back tense below his hand as he held Keith’s head up. But Lance couldn’t even care about the sting, or the bruises that would sure follow for how hard the prince was clutching his body. Keith was  _ alive _ . Moving and breathing and  _ alive _ .

“Lance?” the prince’s eyes blinked slowly open, eyes unfocused but set on him anyway. To think that he wouldn’t have ever seen those beautiful violet eyes again had him scrambling to hold Keith, just to make sure he wasn’t-

“Am I dreaming?” Keith’s rough voice asked, a smile growing on his lips as Lance’s hands held his face, fingers warm on his always cold skin. 

“I thought I was… But you better not be,” Lance laughed wetly as the prince furrowed his brows at him. Adorable, as per usual.

“I must be,” Keith whispered as he closed his eyes. “The ship fell. My mom… Shiro... I wished for their safety and- I wanted to see you. Just once before… before I-"

“I’m here,” Lance cut him off, unable to handle the surge of affection he felt at hearing Keith’s last wish had been to see  _ him _ instead of praying for his own safety, for his own  _ life _ . “We’re right here,” he nodded, trying to assure  _ himself _ that this was real too.

“Oh,” the prince whispered, as if the thought that he could be alive had just registered in his mind, eyes lowering for a second. And then his face lit up, eyes opening wide and looking straight at him, cold hand coming up to touch Lance’s face, thumbs wiping away his still falling tears. The prince was glowing, the smile on his face stretching even wider. Lance couldn’t help but get closer, wanting to be a part of his bliss.

“I love you,” Keith whispered, voice sweet and perfect. 

And before Lance could even try saying it back, they had pulled each other closer together, lips joining in a simple kiss. It wasn’t like anything Lance could’ve ever imagined, head clearing completely to make way for one wonderful sensation, every single shred of anxiety and worry and sadness and dread disappearing completely to make way for one continuous string of thought, only one word played in different tones flashing in neon red on his mind.

_ I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. _

When they separated, they stayed as close as they could be, and Lance said what he’d wanted to ever since the first time he’d laid eyes on Keith inside the sinking star.

“I loved you first,” he smirked, laughing when Keith rolled his eyes but still clinging to him, afraid he’d disappear. They stayed like that for seconds that felt like hours, breathing together as if the world had stopped spinning just for that moment.

It was perfect.

It was hard, but eventually they let go. Keith untangled their limbs slowly, limbs still weak from the whole endeavor, and Lance didn’t remove his hands from his back, carefully supporting the prince as he turned to look at Shiro. Keith reached out a shaky hand and pulled the knight down to bring their foreheads together, shushing him softly when the man’s shoulders started shaking.

“You were dead,” Shiro whispered, self-loathing and sadness in his voice. “I let you die”

“You saved me,” Keith assured him. “I’m alive, aren’t I?”

“I gave up on-”

“I won’t hear it Shiro,” the prince shook his head, pushing him away slightly. “I’m okay now. Okay?” and for all of the pain they’d endured, Lance smiled at his words. Keith sounded like he was threatening Shiro by reassuring him. Of course he would. The knight fumbled and untangled a necklace from his hand, holding it in his palm.

“I’m sorry about this,” he apologized as he tried to give it back to the prince, but Keith’s hands stopped his fidgeting, closing Shiro’s fist over the silver chain and pushing it away against the knight’s chest.

“Keep it. You saved me and my mother from that- that  _ monster _ . It’s just a drop of my quintessence, I really won’t miss it,” the prince smiled. “You’ve been with me through it all. You’re my  _ brother _ . And my gratitude goes beyond but the least I-”

“I’ll keep it,” the knight stopped Keith’s rambling, making him laugh slightly. A drop of his  _ quintessence? _ From what Lance understood, that was one of the most valued substances in the  _ universe _ , what powered ships and all sources of life itself.  _ It’s kind of like way to identify people, _ Keith had explained, hand unconsciously rubbing his neck,  _ but also so much more than that. It’s… almost a piece of yourself. It’s like… and insurance on my life.  _ It was a beautiful thing to see.

The prince turned to his mother then, letting her pull him in to plant a kiss on his forehead. 

“I can’t believe we’re all here,” she laughed as Thace reached to cradle Keith’s face with one hand, the other still around his wife. 

“What about Lotor?” Keith frowned.

“His ship fell somewhere to the west of here,” Shiro pointed out as he pulled the necklace over his head, tucking it under the hem of his shirt. “I saw it explode somewhere on land before we crashed. There’s no way anyone could survive that explosion”

“Good,” Krolia nodded firmly. “It’s what he deserves”

They sat silent for a few minutes, content to just be together. And then Keith turned to Lance again. He smiled, and Lance knew it was all going to be okay.

“Let’s go home”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that! 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you liked the ending. Bit dramatic but... it's me so. Happy ending! Yay!
> 
> I'm thinking of doing a small epilogue but I'm not sure. Or just let me know and I'll just tell you all what happens next.
> 
> Thank you again! Hope you all have a wonderful day!

**Author's Note:**

> This story is finished, will be updating every day so subscribe if you want!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment if you liked or see any typos!


End file.
